


The Butcher And His Knife

by Muddled_Crow



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Decisions, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Eventual Romance, Friends to Lovers, Gore, High Chaos (Dishonored), High Chaos Corvo Attano, High Chaos Daud (Dishonored), M/M, Masturbation, Medium Chaos Daud, Post-Dishonored (Video Game), Slow Burn, Torture, ooc Corvo to a point but not really. You'll see in the story as it progresses, very high chaos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-07-17 23:38:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 69,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16106174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muddled_Crow/pseuds/Muddled_Crow
Summary: Mutual respect runs deep for the two men, one who lost himself to bloodlust, and one who left his name behind for none, finding an existence as a tool once again. Together they paint Dunwall red, ridding the wretched city of whatever can oppose them. As well what opposes the Empress.Rating will change in future chapters, will also add more tags as the story progresses.





	1. Thrown Pillow

How long had it been?

How long since the sickness had taken Corvo, grabbed a hold of his neck and tore the breath from out of him? He didn't know, he couldn't know. His head was swimming in syrup and wax, his eyelids heavy and body exhausted of strength and vitality. Even the mark didn't help him now, the sickness had simply taken too strong of a hold of him, and had him panting for every step he took.  
The heavy rain in Dunwall didn't help either, and made the rooftops slippery, wet and impossible to stumble on. Walking was fine, but nothing else. Not this as he was doing now. It could get him killed if he didn't have his powers. But Corvo kept on wandering, not too sure where he was supposed to go. Dunwall was red with blood, the smell of it strong on his clothing, even if he rain had started to wash it away. Wash it out into the river, where it would poison the fish for a while. Poison everything... For a while.

He debated on leaving the city, getting away from everything so that it could heal. To let Emily heal, and find her place in her throne, and mend Dunwall as best as she could. But it meant to leave her vulnerable, and open to killers- and if the scum of Dunwall knew Corvo Attano was still around, Emily would be safe. Safe after Havelock tried to kill her by jumping off with her, safe after she took too much after her father. Safe from becoming like him...

The man stumbling through the rain to reach the bar he was told about. For by now, he needed help, even though he gritted his teeth every time he thought about it. Hated the thought- hated that he needed it.  
In his sickness, Corvo had gone unconscious on several occasions, his fever knocking him out so many times he couldn't count, else from the bruises he got. And after waking up hours of not remembering anything, Corvo found himself without his mask, it had been stolen, together with his coin purse. He saw the man run off with it, after he saw a hand draw back from his waist. Coin was easy to get, it was just to kill a noble he managed to get through, after slaughtering his guards. Easy peasy.  
But information about the mask was another thing. He wanted his coin back too. And that took some talking to others, most preferred the biggest bar he knew about so far where there was a bit too many few gangs, some that might attempt to kill him. But he could take them by now, it would just meant he needed to breathe a bit harder. And faint for a while. Hah- it would be fine, he told himself as he jumped down from the roof, holding onto the pipes, landing heavily, the landing sending shocks through his body.  
He was close now, it wouldn't take much wandering before he could be warm for a little while. Buy a drink, he could maybe even warm up.

So he dragged himself up from the cobblestone, and out of sheer will started to walk normally, making sure he didn't seem as sick as he most likely looked when he was wandering alone, for he was sure there was people around. And citizens looking out of their windows, for the guard had been very adamant on searching for him, as well as others after Emily came back to the throne.  
There was still wanted posters all over, and with Attano coming to the Tower with her, the guards kept their distance and didn't arrest him, until he left the premises. Left Emily's side, without a word.

Corvo kicked open the door gently, only pushing it open with his foot. It swung open, and let a gust of warmth hit the Lord Protector's masked face, the man having an old mask from the noble he killed. He just took it off the wall, and put it on. It made him stand out, but the eyes that fell on him, looked away quickly once Corvo walked inside. He was quick to find a seat by the bar, his body feeling heavy as he settled down in front of the barman, waving at him at once. "Whiskey. Dry."

The barman nodded along and server Corvo, about to remove the bottle from the counter, but Corvo grabbed a hold around his hand, and set the bottle right back down. The man frowned deeply, and once he got his hand back, he understood who it was, and... What stained his hand.

He was quick to find his bar rag, and just muttered something under his breath as he dried it off. Corvo was already sipping his glass, and waved to the man again, wanting him to stay, so... He did, fear being a part of why.

"... I need information about thieves in Draper's Ward. Red haired, looked like a Hatter. Got a rat you know about?" Corvo's voice was hoarse, rough and dry, but he made himself understood. A pause followed, where the bartender looked over his patrons for a while. "Kill him and you got your info from me." The man muttered low, glad Corvo didn't speak up so others could hear him. Corvo sighed, running a hand in his hand, shaking off the drops of water from his hand. "He's already dead."

The bartender just nodded, and gave Corvo the table he needed. "You'll be waging a sort of war, though. Hope you're ready for that." He spoke cautiously, and stopped himself quickly once he was done speaking. As if he realised that he had said something wrong, or stepped over the line.  
And from the stare he got from Corvo, how the hand around the glass tightened, and his other moving ever so slightly, he got that he had crossed a line indeed, and it got his heart racing. So, he quickly moved on, as if trying to escape the situation with his life rather than his dignity. 

Staring after him for a good while as he went to a man that looked like a Whaler, Corvo stayed right where he was, trying to figure out what to do and how to do it as well. He would need grenades, and crossbow bolts. Would need some springrazors as well, and a few crates of alcohol for his wounds and himself after this. A drunk Corvo never thought himself to become, but with sickness, came bad decisions, he only chuckled.

But his eyes wandered over to the Whaler and bartender, the Whaler was in Master Assassin outfits, and with a mask on. Odd.  
And it seemed like they were exchanging words thought paper. And it was apparently going nowhere for the bartender, who's body language screamed that he was angry. Then he pointed to Corvo without looking, and Corvo got what this meant. Quietly he poured the whiskey he had in his glass over into the bottle, picked up a wine bottle cork and sealed it, and got up from his seat, something the Whaler saw, but not the bartender, who was still trying in vain to get his way. Before he left Corvo paid for his alcohol and slipped the bottle into his inner pockets, and wandered up to the table quietly as he could, going unnoticed by the bartender until Corvo had his hand on the man's shoulder, and pushed him so he was facing him, using some strength in the progress. The man's face quickly changed from annoyance to pure, primal fear, and he froze up. He stuttered out a word Corvo didn't quite catch for the blood was still rushing through his ears from getting up so quickly.

"I-I was-... I... This..."

Corvo frowned deeply, and looked to the papers the two of them had exchanged. The Whaler was sitting very casually by the time Corvo came up, having placed his legs on the table, and laid back with his chair tipping back. He wanted to see this, and let Corvo read. The bartender didn't dare to walk away.  
The former Lord Protector drew his sword, and without as much of a scream, the bartenders head flew off his neck, and landed with a wet and disgusting sound onto the floor behind him, bumping into the wall of the booth the Whaler was in.

The Whaler only sat there, cross armed, seeming entertained. The rest of the patrons however all stood up, drawing their own weapons.  
But when they took notice of what was happening, and who it was, the whole bar fell silent as the grave. Men stood wondering if they should attack, fighting themselves, maybe. Corvo turned around, swinging his sword in his hand, the sword bloodied and stained from old blood too.

They all sat down again.

Corvo sighed, and found himself looking to that Whaler. And looked at him for a while... Then, the man offered a seat above him, before sitting properly, his chair hitting the floor with a solid thud, a sound that scared some of the patrons, all about to spring up from their chairs, as it was still relatively quiet in the bar. Corvo paused, but took the offered seat, brushing off the dried mud that the Whaler's boots left on the table, only to bring out his bottle.

The Whaler pulled out a book, and a pencil. The book was dry, meaning that he most likely had been here for a while, avoiding the weather. It didn't really show though, as there where only a glass of whiskey by arm, that now rested on the table.  
He pushed the book towards Corvo, and tapped the page with the back of the pencil, and laid it down towards Corvo. ... Who got what he meant, and was about to open his mouth, before... ... He instead wrote down his questions. All of them.

'You're a bodyguard?  
Left the Whalers?  
Why?'

Corvo turned around the book, the Whaler taking the pencil from Corvo's hand without any complaints from said man.

He replied very quickly, his writing faster than most others from what Corvo had seen in his lifetime.

'I am an assassin by trade. I guard, kill, steal, investigate and stalk. I stay for coin for food, or food itself, paid every third day.'  
'Yes. I have amnesia after a injury to my head, and remember nothing from two years ago. My reasons are my own out from this.'

Corvo read quickly, at least, and.. Took notice of the handwriting. It was sort of messy, yet proper, but not nice. It was just easy to read. ... He frowned deeply, but... This could be good. If what he said was true. But the way he was so close to him, and how careless and casual he was when he had a man decapitated before him by a man that undoubtedly he met some weeks ago, it looked like he was telling the truth.

'Do you recognise me?' Corvo wrote quickly. They exchanged the pencil very easily, none of them offended.

'No. And I doubt I would if you were to remove your mask.'

'The others do. Do you know why?'

'You are a dangerous man.'  
That's all he thought of him, huh? ... Corvo frowned deeply, his stubble soon a beard, for his mouth could be seen, the mask only half covering his face.

'Can you kill a gang for me? If it comes to that?'

The Whaler only nodded.

'I need the Hatter's dead. One of theirs stole my mask and coin. And protection until I know Dunwall's underbelly better.'

The Whaler nodded again and started to write.

'100 coins.' He held out his hand. Corvo hesitated, taking back the pen from the Whaler... Then he dragged the book back, the Whaler pulling his hand back then.

'What is your name?'

The Whaler visibly sighed, but it wasn't heard.

'I left it behind.' Corvo nodded. He could see that, and understand it too. He had recently done so too. He was doing it.

'Do you keep secrets?'

'If I don't you'll kill me'  
Corvo nodded.

'Are you mute?'

'By choice.'

'Why?'

The whaler pointed to his reply, tapping the book so it was heard. Corvo took a moment to digest that reply. It ended with his hand going to his coin purse, though, where he started to count up 100 coins, pushing piles of 10 towards the master Whaler, who pocketed them in his own coin purse. It looked familiar, Corvo couldn't quite place it, but... He supposed most of the Whaler's had the same purse. At least it looked like it as he went thought their headquarters. With all coin accounted for, the Whaler started writing again. 'Know hand gestures?'

Corvo shock his head. And with this, the Whaler started teaching him about the different hand gestures he had a habit of using, Corvo actually finding it interesting to learn. So he kept his attention as well as he could to the drawings and writings, and watched the man before him do them.  
He mirrored them, and the Whaler was happy it seemed, so now he just wrote; 'I'm yours to command.'

Corvo nodded, but decided to not leave just yet, due to how goddamned warm he was, and thirsty as well. He was hungry too, he couldn't deny that, so... Quenching that hunger would be an idea.  
He fished up the bottle of whiskey from his pocket and got the cork out of it easily, and took a few swings straight from it. His Whaler didn't say anything, he just picked up his book and started flipping through it, seeming to be counting pages. He was working, easily said, Corvo guessing he was most likely bored. But so be it, he needed a break. Just a small one. This guy wasn't sick, so he just had to deal with it.  
Unless he caught what Corvo had, but that would have to be his business at the end of this. It wouldn't take long, he knew this. He would swear to it, honestly.

... In a few minutes Corvo's world blackened, however, and he woke up to a raging headache, one that was not from his brain, but his head itself. He could feel the lump he had. Coughing a few times in a rough, and very dry manner, he suddenly got a pat on the head, with only a finger, one that he couldn't really place, so he was quick to look up.  
There was the Whaler, sitting casually, playing this off to the others it seemed. As he could see the other patrons that still had dared to stay eye him, eyes intense, as if they wanted to know if it was safe to attempt to kill him or not. Or to run. Looked more like they were afraid.

Grunting more mentally than outwards, the former Lord Protector dragged his upper body up, sitting up better, and wiped off the whiskey he apparently spilled off his mouth and face. The mask was luckily of wood, so it wouldn't be too damaged if he just dried it off quickly, which he did.  
His Whaler, or... Assassin sat back, and tapped the table a few times, that was a signal for Corvo to look to him. So he did, even though his view was blurry.  
He gestured for them to leave. It was a suggestion, he knew that from how he was sitting, but Corvo took it wholeheartedly. So Corvo dragged himself off the table, and started walking, his assassin getting up and wandered after him.  
And the eyes that followed them widened in raw fear, and looked away very quickly.

It got a bit of a questioning look on Corvo's face, but he tried to not think too hard about it, as he supposed he'd best to concentrate on getting out of the bar. As soon as they stepped outside the cold hit Corvo like a truck, and his assassin, he ws just fine, although he was sort of under dressed for the cold. Corvo looked up to the sky for a moment, the rain nice on his feverish face. Even though it was most likely not good for him to be out like this.  
His assassin just stood waiting for him to walk, and when Corvo started, they both went ahead. Corvo was quick to hold out a hand towards his assassin, who looked to the hand, visibly so, and then to Corvo, as if asking why.  
Corvo just waved to him to do it, and when he did, they both blinked up to the roof, his assassin quick to understand what was happening as they surged through the Void, and was unphrased from the trip. He just let go of Corvo's hand quickly, and Corvo honestly missed the warmth from the hand in his palm.  
Corvo watched him for a moment as he stood up properly, looking for reactions. But there was none. So, he simply started to run, jumping across the rooftops. His assassin followed suit in a good pace, and ended up by Corvo's side. They kept doing this halfway to Draper's Ward, before Corvo had to stop for a breather, his breathing so erratic and unstable he had to be hunched over in order to not fall over.  
Damn it. He hoped the alcohol had given him some energy.

He looked up, only to find his assassin perched on the side of the roof, looking down. He moved to the other side, leaving Corvo alone. He was looking out for danger, most certainly.  
He caught his breath after some struggling, wondering how long he could keep this up.

He tapped his foot, and got his assassin to his side quickly, who now stopped him with a hand gesture from moving. The former Lord Protector looked to him, nodding along to tell him it was fine. But he was sort of confused once his assassin lifted up his hand, and... Disappeared, only to appear on the other side of the roof.

... He's Marked. Corvo felt his heartbeat pick up, and blood rushed to his head.  
That could be Daud. But no. He didn't know if he was dead or not. Where was Daud? He had to figure that out. But... With his man with him for three days, what was he supposed to do for those three days?  
Find his mask, yes...

His breathing started to pick up, and his shoulders tensed up like hell.  
... The assassin only blinked over to him again, and went back to his work, checking around...

Meanwhile, Corvo started to clear his very muddled thoughts.  
He knew what he had to do. It was just to not show their faces at all. and trust that the amnesia wasn't a lie. Corvo could tell that he was denying things and digging it down, but he had a good reason, and that was the sickness he was struggling with at that very moment.  
He tapped his foot, and his assassin's attention was on him again. They went ahead, Corvo making up a new gesture. It was for his assassin to take his hand and blink instead, for his headache honestly made it hard to concentrate to where he wanted to land, and that could prove dangerous.  
It took his assassin a moment to get it, and he casually held out a hand, Corvo taking it. They blinked to the other rooftop, Corvo noticing how the blink was different from his own very quickly. But despite wishing he could somehow get those powers, he just made sure he stood steady, as they were awfully close to the edge.  
His assassin walked forward, but was very quick to twist back, as he noticed Corvo losing his balance there, about to step wrong in order to gain it back.  
Corvo started to notice this before it was too late, and didn't even think to blink as he started to fall back. But before he could even yelp or anything else for his bodyguard to get him, he felt a hand around his waist, and saw a blur or black leather swing past him. Then Corvo was roughly pulled up, and he lost his balance, stumbling only after his bodyguard, and ended up leaning heavily against him, gripping around his arms hard. They were so big Corvo didn't even reach halfway around.  
Corvo's breath was caught in his throat, so when he allowed himself to breathe again, he fell into a coughing fit, coughing violently into his assassins shoulder, as he was sort of hiding his head in it.

... Swearing he heard a grumble, Corvo tried to fight it when he started to get moved, as that was something he DID not like at all. But he just found the little strength he had go out of him, and gritting his teeth, he silently yelped, no sound coming from his mouth as he was headbutted HARD, apparently his assassin was pissed at him. For his fingers were digging into his side, and the headbutt was the only thing he did.  
Coughing more, Corvo only gripped his assassins arm hard, but it was fruitless to try and get him to listen now, as he honestly felt like he couldn't use his voice now. He then noticed blood coming from his forehead, and that was it for him, he tore himself from the man and stumbled back, ending up against a stone pipe, his breathing uneven still. And he got ready to fight.

Suddenly his assassin was aiming a wristbow at him, and being unable to say or do anything, Corvo felt a sting to his arm, and took a look to it.  
He looked up quickly, not liking that it was a sleepdart, not at all, and was about to speak, when he started to feel it working. The last thing he saw was his assassin move towards him, and sit down to his level...

 

What he woke up to, was a ceiling. One he didn't recognise.  
Slowly sitting up, Corvo found himself without his coat, and with his undershirt and armour removed. Weapons as well, and his boots gone. And he as draped in a duvet as well. Touching his forehead cautiously, he found that he had bandages around it, as well as a wet rag, that was apparently cold.  
Looking around, Corvo found himself in a dark apartment, and on a couch that was apparently being used as a bed. Just a meter or so from him, stood a cooking station of some sort, with food being cooked. Or just kept warm, Corvo couldn't tell.  
He didn't see any sign or anyone around him, and guessed that he was alone. So now it was to find his things and get out. Even though it looked like he was being taken cared of, he didn't know where he is, nor WHO took him here. He supposed it was his assassin's, but... Who the hell knows. He could be close to Coldridge, with guards coming up to the apartment as he laid there.  
He found his boots and everything he owned on and by a chair, his weapons resting on it, while his coat was nicely draped over the chair, resting against a fireplace that was heating up the room well.

... Corvo got up, finding that the coat was dry and warm. His boots too, as he slipped them on, making a bit of noise as he did due to being slightly unsteady. He wasn't any better, but at least he felt like he could at least get away, then take a rest or so at this point. But before he got his coat on, a door opened. Corvo was quick to twist around, and was met with a man in a familiar mask, wearing a white button up shirt that really made his muscles and all stand out well, it was tight. His assassin. As bare as Corvo would ever be able to see him, maybe, his shirt slightly buttoned up, revealing scars on his neck and chest.

Corvo stopped everything he was doing, and stepped back ever so slightly once his assassin walked up to him. He got a hand on his shoulder, despite trying to avoid it by stepping back again, and was lead to the couch again...  
He got what his assassin wanted him to do, so he sat down...  
... To then get the duvet dropped on him.

... Corvo took it around him, and signalled for something to write with. His assassin went and got it from his coat, and handed it to Corvo, the pen and book slightly damp.

'What the fuck did you do and why?'  
'Why did you knock me out?'

Corvo handed the book back.

His assassin was quick to write back.

'First, tell me you are sick next time. I thought you had the plague.'  
'Second, you seem to have no sense of self preservation. I had to in order to keep you alive.'

Corvo frowned deeply.

'I knew what I was doing'

As the man before him read that, he just looked to Corvo, and wrote something.

'I saw that.'

Corvo threw one of the pillows at him once he just saw that sentence upside down from his assassin handing it back to him before he took it. Then as his assassin was about to reach for the pillow that just bounced off him, he was greeted with a hand that grabbed his collar and tore him up from the chair, masks bumping into each other as they got so close, Corvo not caring, and neither his assassin. And as he moved his head back ever so slightly, the assassin saw a fist raised, and it flying towards him, making contact with his face. It was not a very hard punch, just one of warning, which he quickly got as he was let go, acting unphrased of it, but just ended up nodding as Corvo stared him down, the man a bit taller than him. Corvo's lips parted as he took a sharp inhale, and went back to the couch. Meanwhile, his assassin picked up the pillow, tasting blood running down his nose to his lips but not caring. He wandered towards Corvo in the couch, who stared at him cautiously.  
His assassin then tucked the pillow back in place within grabbing range of his employer, and went back to his sitting place when Corvo didn't really do anything but to watch him, having settled on the rather cosy looking chair he had by the cooking station.

Then he handed his book over to Corvo after he had been writing for a while, Corvo just sitting there meanwhile his assassin wrote, annoyed at himself, and angry at his assassin. He was struggling with his feelings about this, for he was grateful for the rest, and the fact that he was being taken care of, but this was not why he hired the man. Though... It was... A part of his job, although not directly. As a bodyguard, it was for everything, even sickness... He remembered staying with Jessamine, so many years ago, when she was sick, and got her medicine if she needed it. Tucked her in.

Corvo's hands turned into fists, and once his assassin tapped his foot against his chair and made some sound, Corvo looked up, to see the book being handed to him. He took it.

'As your bodyguard and assassin, I will protect you. As simple as that. Now give me orders.'

He couldn't just... Tell him to fuck off, even if he wanted to. So, Corvo scribbled out some orders.

'Look into the Hatters and plan an approach. With me in mind.'

He got the book after a little while. 'You have to be with me then. We leave when you recover.'

Corvo just looked to the book, then up again. His assassin poured some stew in a bowl, and put a spoon in it. Then, held it out to Corvo...

... The former Lord Protector took it after putting the book away to his side, and watched the assassin pour himself a bowl. Then... Turn his back to him, and pull up his mask once he knew Corvo couldn't see, and the started eating after wiping blood onto his leather gloves, Corvo hearing the clinking of the spoon against the bowl.  
Looking down to the first meal he would have for over two days, Corvo was hesitant. ... But... He ended up eating carefully, finding the stew not too bad, but could be better. He could give him some pointers if his assassin was willing to listen. And if his wallet allowed it.

At the end of the meal, Corvo had nothing to say. So... He laid down after giving the book back, and attempted to get some rest. It was hard, as he honestly wasn't sure if he could trust his bodyguard fully yet. So he laid awake, yet with eyes closed, just to pretend he was sleeping for his own good. It helped that too, after all.  
His assassin just sat there in his chair, leaned back as he was reading through a book, taking his sweet time with it. 

 

Corvo woke up hours later, cursing at himself for falling asleep. As he got up, he found his assassin with his book sprawled out in his lap, apparently asleep from how he was sitting, and how his head rested down. It looked like he was awake still, and since there was no snoring, Corvo honestly wasn't sure if he was even alive.

He got up from his place, and carefully snuck over to his assassin's side, having a plan of removing the mask really quickly, and seeing who it was, it being just a hunch that he suddenly got. Only a few centimetres from touching the mask, Corvo stopped.  
And his hand hovered there for a bit too long, before he got back into the couch, doing so rather slowly as he watched his assassin while moving back, to make sure he didn't wake up. There was something with how he was. His plea to silence, that stopped Corvo. As well, the fact that he could most likely kill him if Corvo was weak... Which... He was. He hated to admit it, but he was.  
Frowning deeply, Corvo draped the duvet around him again, attempting to find more rest.

He failed, staying awake until his assassin moved, neck cracking as he looked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So- here's my very high chaos au- I finally managed to write it. c': A slow start, but it'll pick up very quickly!
> 
> See you in the next chapter!


	2. Show Me Your Skills

The cloudy sky over Dunwall, as thick as they were, laid a large blanket of grey and misery over Dunwall, even in the early morning, the smoke from his cigar mixing in with it nicely. But when did this wretched city not have misery? It was hard for Corvo to imagine a day where there was not someone suffering, or someone cheating others.  
A city, rotten to the core, only visible to those outside of the Tower's walls. Those in the underbelly of Dunwall, a part of the city that Corvo finally got to see with his own eyes over a month ago. An underbelly that dragged him in with claws and everything, and pinned him down in there. And even though he tried to escape it, he found that it only dragged him back. A lust for the life he lived while chasing the Throne's betrayers, and those who took his honour from him.

Honour he never gained back. He didn't want it anymore. He was not Corvo Attano after those days. He was the Masked Felon, and underneath, was Corvo Attano, if you gave him a reason to show himself. A new face, for a new man.

A new existence, in a run down apartment looking over the river far away from the Tower. Far away from everything he knew.  
Corvo looked down onto his feet, his boots feeling warm against his skin. The balcony was secure enough, albeit rusted at several places, it was safe for the time being. Corvo wasn't staying long, it wouldn't matter to him if his assassin fell off it at a later day anyway, when they had split.

It had been a strange morning before his assassin left with his and Corvo's coin to get food. He had warmed up the stew from yesterday and handed it to Corvo nonchalantly, the man acting as if this was a completely normal thing for him. He hadn't talked either, no writing. Nothing at all. He was just there, without much to say, leaving Corvo to his business. Then he picked up Corvo's coin purse from his belongings, and left with Corvo nearly pouncing him to get it back.   
It was only afterwards Corvo realised it was for food, for his assassin was out of food. He found nothing in the entire place, for damn, Corvo was still looking around even after the 10 minutes his assassin had been gone.  
His next destination was to head over towards the hallway of the place, where the double doors to it was closed. This was a top apartment, some rich people must had been living here before the plague, most certainly. So Corvo dragged himself off the railing he was leaning on, tossed his cigar away and headed instead, stumbling a little due to his fever.  
Having to use some strength to get the door open and pushed open, he found the hallway pristine, but messy nonetheless, as well as dusty. There was little water damage, or damage in general to it. Paintings were still hanging there, untouched for a while. A small bench stood by the hallway too, there to sit on if you were waiting, most likely. There was also a carpet on the floor, one that seemed dirty, but alright. At the end of the hallway, Corvo's eyes followed the carpet naturally, only to see the entrance to the place collapsed, and the door in pieces, as if having been blown up at an earlier moment in time. For the damages were reminisced of an explosion, maybe with whale oil, but Corvo wasn't sure.  
Leaning against the wall, Corvo went head to walk down the hallway, dust thrown in the air as he stomped over the carpet. He reached a room, and looked inside, finding the door's hinges creaky. There he found a bedroom of some sort, but it was untouched as well, else from the bed, which had been removed. And quite so recently too, Corvo could see that whoever removed it also destroyed it in the room, splinters were littering the floor.  
His eyes travelled to the window in the room, finding it barred, but intact.  
... With a sigh, Corvo went out of the room, as there was just usual furniture in the room, and nothing else was too interesting. He was frankly looking for personal effects from his assassin, and it seemed he wasn't finding any anytime soon. Though there was two rooms left, so he went into it, finding the bathroom, and NOW he foudn something of interest. A bowl of water, a razor, and one fine one as well, meaning it belonged to his assassin. And inside the room it smelled oddly good, one smell he couldn't quite place, but he knew that he had smelled it before. It felt like home, in a sense, as he stepped in, seeing that it was mostly what was of interest... Until he noticed bloodied bandages in a trash bin right by the sink.

... His assassin is hurt...

Corvo turned out of the bathroom, and went ahead to get back to the living room part of the apartment. But something caught his eye by his side, and he quickly turned to look, and found... A framed painting of Daud, hanging just out of sight, out of mind. It had Corvo's heart skip a beat once he looked on it, lips thinning.  
He sold that one on the black market. How did it end up here?

... Catching himself staring at it for a little bit too long, Corvo wandered out and closed the doors after himself. And quickly he found himself in the couch, guessing this was the actual bed of the other, for he started to notice the same scent in the bathroom on the couch, only very faint, and mostly around the pillows, especially when he laid his head down.  
... Ignoring everything but the sudden sound he heard from the outside, he laid completely still, as he listened to the sounds for a little second, before he was too quick up to his feet, his vision blurring and his world spinning. But it didn't stop him from wandering towards the other balcony, facing the streets, and stood by it's side, knowing it would open outwards, most likely. If he wasn't wrong.  
He only wished he had his armour on him, as the sound came closer. It was footsteps, loud and splashing ones, and for a second, nothing. Then... A light thud, RIGHT on the balcony.  
Corvo got ready.

The door handle went down, and the door flew up quickly, a figure coming out, but due to the blurred vision, Corvo couldn't tell who it was and thus- he attacked, taking a choke hold of the other which felt like he was a muscular man, and pressed, just to keep him there for the most part, as he checked with his cheek by leaning against the man's head to see if he was wearing a mask. And he was, a leather one at that. With some metal burning a cold sensation into Corvo's warm skin.

Corvo quickly let go and pushed his assassin away, just to avoid him taking a hold of him or attacking. By now Corvo had his sight back, and saw a sack being thrown to the side, his assassin never taking his sight off Corvo, it seemed. The tension got so thick between them that one could swear you could taste it in the air. His assassin cut it, however, by relaxing his VERY aggressive stance, and held up three fingers. Then two. Then he used his thumb, and sliced over his throat.

Corvo nodded, understanding the warning. Then, he relaxed himself, and held out a hand, to then pretend he was writing in it. His assassin understood what he meant, and fished up the book and pencil from his coat, handing it to Corvo. He stepped closer in order to do so, Corvo watching him. But then, without much of a pause, his assassin stood by his side, looking into the book, then supposedly to Corvo. ... Said man got the memo, and wrote.

'Let us create a knock so I know it is you.'

Looking up, the man beside Corvo moved immediately as Corvo finished writing, and knocked a rhythmic knock on the wall. It was simple, but not usual. Corvo mimicked it, and got it right eventually after a try or two more. Satisfied, his assassin went to his sack, and pulled out several food items, some wet, others not. Corvo was not too patient as to watch him place all the food, so he headed up to the man, and stole his coin purse right off him. Oddly enough his assassin let him, and inside, Corvo found his own purse, for it was pretty empty.

Anger swelled up in Corvo, and his head moved sharply to stare at the man before him. He was about to reach out for him, about to speak, when his assassin pulled up vial of what looked like herbs.  
Still having the book, they exchanged the items, his assassin now writing, while looking down... ... Putting a lot of trust in Corvo since he could most certainly tell that Corvo was angry.  
'My mother used this when I was sick. Always helped. Try it, I will brew it.'

Corvo just stared at the page for a while, and took the book and pencil back. 'How much did you use on that?'

'The value of time is more important.'

Gritting his teeth, Corvo wanted to scream in frustration. He had a point, and he fucking hated it. He only had two days left- not even that by now, though.  
Corvo pushed the vial into his assassins chest, and that, apparently gained a reaction from him, as he punched Corvo very hard RIGHT in the face out of seemingly nowhere. And it was hard enough to push the Lord Protector back towards the wall, the mask visibly cracked. And was about to fall off his face.

The vial fell from Corvo's hand when he was punched, and luckily, it survived, rolling away from the two men towards the armchair. One of the men, who was approaching the other with a vicious aura around him, and grabbed the former Lord Protector's collar, the man stunned, and in pain, doing nothing but to grit his teeth.  
The muzzle of his assassins was pushed up to Corvo's face, almost touching his now red lips, because of a broken nose that was leaking blood in an alarming pace. This was the most straight forward warning Corvo had gotten since he was a kid, back in Serkonos, in fights there. And at the moment, he fucking hated it, yet felt a bit of an excitement. An old spark, one that he had when someone put up a fight. He liked that- always had.

Being dropped due to not finding it in him to stand out of pain and dizziness, Corvo's mask cracked in two and fell off him, more to the side than anything else due to the weight. Corvo was quick to hide his face with his arms, gripping onto his hair as he did, for he was fucking pissed. At himself, and his assassin. More at the latter.

His assassin was looking down on him, after the mask had been dropped and after he noted that Corvo hid his face. Then he made a sharp turn, heading off to what was a hole in the wall made by someone, not something, hidden behind a crate. There was his personal things, like clothes, and other useful items. But it was not a lot.  
Two items were fished up from it, and then dropped before the former Lord Protector, a thud being heard as it did from one of them.

His assassin then went out to the balcony, and closed the door after himself, letting Corvo have a chance to look to what he was given.  
Before him laid a pair of googles, and a bandanna, black as the Outsider's Mark on his hand. Corvo took these items quickly and put it on, of course after cracking his nose (painfully) back in place.  
He felt less naked now, and it calmed him down slightly. There was a reason his assassin punched him. A man like him would not do it without a damned good reason, especially when he had acknowledged earlier that Corvo was dangerous.

So the balcony door flew up, Corvo finding his assassin hunched over, leaning against the railing.

... He wasn't sure if he was to walk up to him, or not. But he stood his ground, especially when his assassin left the railing, and went back inside- passing the other without much of a treat. Corvo got why he punched him now, and frowned deeply. A few spots of blood painted the man's white undershirt red, and it didn't look good. Especially considering the bloody bandages he had...  
Being left outside, Corvo looked up to the sky, an weird feeling swelling up in his chest.

It seemed it would rain today too...

 

They ate a good meal, and Corvo got a tea made out of the herbs that his assassin had been brewing while the other was out on the balcony, calming down. At first the former Lord Protector was not too sure about it, so he gave the cup to his assassin, who had to try it first, just in case it was poisoned. His assassin did as he was told, and sipped the tea as well as swallowed it so it was heard well.  
... Satisfied after getting no reactions from the man went some minutes had passed, Corvo drank the rest, all pretty quickly, for there was a horrid taste to it.  
He only hoped it would be worth it, and wouldn't kill him. But the only reason his assassin would have happened after he bought the herbs, so... Hrmp.

The book was brought out again and Corvo was told to sleep.  
Nodding, he attempted to do so, only to be stopped when his assassin undressed, right in front of the other, until he was only shirtless, where he revealed two slashes to his upper body, one in his waist, and one in his chest, just where Corvo had pushed the vial onto him.  
Staring a bit wide eyed, Corvo didn't really think a man could sport so many scars. There were too many, and some that even looked self inflicted, like cigarette burns on his arms, several of them... His assassin started to remove the bandages he had on him, including the one on his waist, and settled in the chair for a few moments, gathering himself, his breathing deep and controlled.

... Corvo just... Turned away and tried to sleep, giving the man before him privacy, but, he heard after a minute or so that he got up, and opened the door to the hallway.. Sleep took him as it grew too quiet in the room, and had a hold on him, for a long time, perhaps even akin to a usual sleep cycle for the normal man. Something that was rare for the former Lord Protector.

 

He woke up to the same ceiling again, feeling better, and cold, even. To his side he heard some loud huffs, and Corvo had to sit up to see what was happening, as it was behind the couch.  
His assassin was training, doing push up at the moment. ... It had to be really fucking boring for him to waste his time waiting like this, causing him to train like that. Or, maybe it was a normal habit... 

Hrmp... Corvo sprung up from his seat, finding that he didn't feel too bad, and his vision was okay. He was... In general really okay. Not cured, but at least the worst had passed, a headache still lingering in the back of his skull, however.

So he slipped past the couch to his things, and started to get dressed properly, his coat warm on his skin. Then, he wandered to the balcony, and tapped his foot to gain his assassin's attention.  
Once he had it, Corvo gestured with his head for his assassin to come with him, and he did, both now moving across the rooftops to go to their destinations. It took them a while to move through the districts, since Corvo was not too familiar with the surroundings, and had to take a few detours in order to not overextend himself too much. It was best to be careful, despite the man feeling better, he could still end up getting dizzy and if luck was not at his side as it hadn't been for a long while, he could kill himself... But... His assassin lead them through the rooftops, the wind feeling awesome running through his hair. And after a day and a half of being inside most of the time, it felt like true freedom for Corvo, as well as his assassin. He was jumping a lot easier, although his landings were not careless, and very controlled. Corvo knew why, so he didn't bother to think about it, and instead learned for each landing, intending to mimic it for future reference. They dropped by a black market before they got to their destination, and got a lot of equipment, some that Corvo was now in debt to his assassin for. But it would be paid in full at the end of the day... For sure.

They got where they needed to be eventually, the Hatter's territory just under them as they stood perched on a tall rooftop, both balancing expertly. His assassin brought up his book again, reminding himself to pick up a pencil for Corvo as he went in here, for they would surely have one lying about.

'Direct me'

Corvo took the book and pencil and explained what he could remember of the man he wanted dead the most. Then, from his surprise, his assassin drew up a portrait, and Corvo found it a little bit familiar, and nodded along, making a gesture to tell his assassin he was vaguely right, but at least a little bit.  
'Find the mask first. Then kill him. I don't care f you kill more people, and don't get seen. Nor let anymore see bodies. We meet here once we are done scouting the area'  
Nodding along, his hired man went off into the shadows, quickly moving to get into the building, blinking skilfully, for none of the men wandering around the place looked anything like their target. Corvo went in on another side, moving quickly to not be seen by the different men wandering along under him. And soon, in front and around him, as Corvo slipped inside of the building, finding that the Hatter's were a meagre gang today, perhaps they had spread out more. Hard to tell, though Corvo could ask if he bothered to.

His assassin was on his way to a more direct goal than Corvo, already finding the stairs that he needed. Up there, he blinked up on the many machines, that where still running. But it didn't stop him from treading carefully around the mechanisms, making sure that he wasn't seen in the progress. He made it to a balcony overlooking the floor underneath him, and blinked onto it, skilfully landing on the railing, with perfect balance. Jumping off it silently, he stalked his way into through the door, and came where he had to be, to the offices. He didn't know why he knew where he had to go, it was just something he knew from instinct. Or a hunch? It didn't matter.  
Laying his ear against the door and having to remove his hood in order to do so, he listened for a while. Then, with a swift move he looked through the keyhole, his hood on him yet again, hiding his dark brown hair.

He opened the door, the handle moving up and letting the door slide open, quietly. He waited a second, before entering, and found the Geezer, asleep in his chair. Alone.

Checking around the room, the former Whaler found coin, a blueprint, and some food items, all that he stashed in his pockets for later. He had no time to eat. With the room secured and looked through, he moved up the stairs, to continue to search.  
Meanwhile, Corvo was sliding by several Hatter's that was lazing around, seeming bored enough to be playing cards. What they did mattered little to Corvo, all he knew was that he wanted to get past them, a task that proved easy. He was checking out the areas that he knew his assassin hadn't been through, for there were little bodies anywhere close. He had wandered past a dead man, a hole in his neck shaped like an Assassin's Blade, and as soon as Corvo saw him, he turned around and went back. His own sword was bloody, a few men had to die by the water wheel for Corvo to proceed from that point onwards, all men hidden.

It took a few moments before Corvo found anything of interest, and had to stop himself too many times to read notes, and other things that was important.  
If he were to go by the notes, it seemed many Hatter's had been killed by Daud a while ago, and some of the remaining men had scattered to other places, in order to recruit, and expand. There was a big chance that the man Corvo wanted was one of the men who had scattered, and he didn't like it, not one bit.  
But no notes he found as he moved through the floors mention ant location. Nor point's of interests... Corvo couldn't do anything but to grumble, as he dragged a hair tie off the dead man before him's wrist, using it to tie up his own hair.

Then the body was dumped in a dumpster, and Corvo looked up to their destined meeting place, finding no assassin perched up there... This meant, he could spend a few minutes looting. And it sounded good to him, meant more money. He passed by the gang of Hatters, snuck in as best as he could, and stole their purses off their waists, quick and agile hands working their magic. He also took an extra look on them, making sure that none looked like his man. But no, as he confirmed earlier, none looked like him. Then he disappeared before they could notice, and a fight broke out behind him as he left for the courtyard again, hearing the curses and moans, and finding himself smirking at it.   
He then moved up to the still empty place, finding his assassin on his heels. He came from a window halfly shut with wood planks, nailed on the inside. Seemed he had torn them off in order to get enough space to leave through it. Corvo settled casually in his place, and waited while his assassin found what he got from his pockets, handing Corvo some letters, and shoving an apricot tartlet to him, tapping his chest.  
Corvo only looked to it once, and took it. He didn't understand why he was given this particular item, but it didn't matter to him at the moment. All he wanted was the assassins book to write with.

Instead, his assassin finished his rummaging, pulling up a pencil that he handed to Corvo, and held up a finger telling Corvo to hold on- wait, and in his other hand, he opened up a barely used journal, for the first pages he got up were empty. Then, he flipped through them, and tore out the pages that had been used. Then handed Corvo the book.  
Said man understood what he did, and nodded as a thank you, writing what he wanted to say, trying to be quicker than he had been before, and he found more success with it as he could concentrate more than before. Being able to think more clearly did help with the speed, after all.  
'I didn't find him. Seems the Hatter's have scattered, and to unknown places.'

His assassin nodded to the words written, and wrote in his own book.  
'Didn't find the target. Found coin, food and little else of information. Only useless plans for expansion. Orders?'

Coin. Right.  
Resting his book in his lap, Corvo brought up his coin purse, and coughed up the coin he owed his assassin, the man taking the coin and counting it, something Corvo didn't blame him for doing. Once this was done, Corvo started writing again, leaving his assassin to his counting.

'Know how to get information out of people?'

Only glancing to the book by moving his head ever so slightly, the assassin nodded shortly, occupied with his counting.

'Help me round up the Hatters that's left.'  
The last coin was counted up, and his assassin nodded again.

They started to lay a wordless plan using only gestures, Corvo gesturing a yes and no to the suggestions his assassin came up with. He understood most of what the man beside him said, but as to move a step closer to properly figure out where he was pointing. As well, Corvo had to show him where he saw the gang and their members, for none of them had fully explored the place.  
After some time they agreed on a plan, and Corvo settled down to get more comfortable, watching his assassin slip in where he came from again, and emerging with an unconscious man, every few minutes, and dropping into the open roof windows across where they were both seated earlier. It was where Daud initially entered, and keeping them in there meant it was only one way out, where one of them could either stand, or shut off. It would depend on how many people they needed.  
Once Daud finished, bringing in around three men. Then he turned to his employer, facing him with his entire body, Corvo nodded in understanding, and they both went towards where the fighting Hatter's had just been, and still, somehow, were. Instead of coin, they now gambled with their clothes, and luckily, none of them were fully undressed yet.  
A chokedust grenade stopped the party, and time stopped, only for two people, however. Corvo didn't even think of it as his assassin moved through time with him, knowing Bend Time was a usual thing for Marked to be immune to. Once time resumed, the men all fell unconscious to the floor, some gaining more bruises than they already had.  
His assassin took two men over his shoulders and walked to their destination, Corvo joining him with one. After two trips, they ended up with eight men unconscious on the floor of the place, his assassin turning on his heel to get the last item they would need. He took the whale oil tank that was powering the Wall of Light out of it's place, and placed it in the middle of the men, in the middle of the room. Then, he switched darts in his wristbow as he wandered to the crate he intended to close off the area with, and doing so without much problems, all while Corvo only watched him, standing around as he waited. His assassin though, he took a seat as he was done, and gestured towards another one a few meters away from him, asking Corvo to sit.  
Corvo took a few glances around, and stepped towards the place, seeing that it was a good strategic position for both of them, if they needed to, they could spring up and block the exit easy from there. So he settled down, and waited. Rested a bit as well, the headache still eating at his brain. Then, his assassin fired his gun into the air, and promptly woke up every man on the floor.  
Corvo expected it, and only got ready to move if he needed to, while his assassin aimed his wristbow, and locked it onto the whale oil tank in the middle of the floor.  
It was the first thing the men saw, the assassin making sure of this.

Some reacted differently than the others, some with anger and others being more careful.

"FUCK- A WHALER!" One of them screamed.

"And the fucking Butcher!" Another one said more calmly, and cautiously. All of them looked alarmed around them, trying to look for an exit. Some checked their pockets and for their weapons, but found none, making sure their gang members knew that they were out of weapons too.  
Corvo got out his book.

"Hey- that's Trimble's! You fucking thief!" The blonde skinny guy yelled, angry to say the least, and started to go up to Corvo, who drew his sword very quickly, and right in front of the man as well, nearly slicing open his neck.

He stepped back slowly.

"Ok- man. You got it."

The fellow Hatter's had figured out where the Whaler was aiming, and how casually he was doing it, they knew he was serious. In general, they knew the Whaler's were dangerous in general, and combine that with the Butcher, and... Haha- fuck.  
Corvo held up the book, having written bigger than usual for the men to read it better.

'Tell me were the rest of your gang is'

"Pssh- lost your voice, have you?" One of the bigger ones mocked, and as soon as he had said his words, a bolt flew through his head, and stuck itself in his skull on the other side. The Hatter's who watched the assassin was quick to move to get to him as he readjusted his aim and reloaded, but stopped themselves in an instant as the assassin aimed again. He had automatic reloading, they could tell. Had seen a few of those wristbows, he had, back in the days of gang wars. When Daud lead the Whalers.

One Hatter now understood with a angry expression on his face that no matter what they did they were dead. So, why not take those two bastards with them. He promptly kicked the whale oil tank quickly, the tank flying towards Corvo all too quick for Corvo to react properly, as he was in the middle of writing something. All of sudden he was embraced by a red blur that also pushed him down so he was lying on the crate behind him, and a huge explosion followed, out of sight, for all that Corvo saw in the few seconds that followed was red leather, that smelled like the pillows he had been resting in.  
Wide eyed as he realised what happened, his assassin moved, his hands removing themselves from the back of Corvo's head, and promptly drew his sword, spinning it in his hand as he stood up properly, Corvo watching as his assassin got to his feet, smoke coming off his leather coat, and he promptly held up his hand, anger radiating from the man as he disappeared in a blink, screams following just a second afterwards.  
Corvo still laid like he had a few seconds ago, but had turned his head to where the Hatter's had gathered, all trying and succeeding in getting away. Some squeezed through, two of them, and the 6 left that still were pulling and pretty burnt from the whale oil exploding near them, all put up their fists, ready to fight the armed, and extremely dangerous man. Corvo quickly got to his feet as he gathered himself and managed to hear something too as the peeping in his ears faded, and drew his own sword, the Hatter's at least should be proud of their courage to try to fight.

They tried to group up on the assassin at first, thinking since he was hurt, that he would be easier to get to. But it was a suicide mission for sure, the ones even getting close cut, on their arms, as if the two men before them played with them, making them bleed out rather than to just kill them. But that was just for a few seconds, before one of the Hatter's head flew off their shoulders, blood splattering around on the others, but the remaining men not even caring. Until another one was dead, a sword in his guts. And the one closest to him to also fell the same way.  
Then Corvo hacked the forth ones neck, leaving a gaping wound that killed him just a bit slower than a simple slice would.  
The fifth was squirming his way out, about to run away. Corvo gestured to his assassin to give chase, and them an did so, WALKING after the man who was still a bit stuck in the thin opening of the heavy crate. He got out, by the assassin kicked the opening bigger, and slipped through, leaving Corvo with the last man, that he made short work off, annoyed that he blocked the first slash he swung at him with his arms. He tried to take Corvo's sword from him, but failed, Corvo smirking under his bandanna, as he found it funny how he was struggling. He was stabbed in the stomach, not a killing blow, and left on the floor, Corvo not even looking to him as he went ahead to get the remaining men.  
He started to run, following the blood drops from his assassin, be it his own blood or the Hatters. Only having to run for a little while, he found the latest escapee, dead on the ground, stabbed from the back. Corvo started to listen around him, concentrating, as well as activating his Dark Vision.   
He got up high, and that was a wise thing to do, for out of the exit of ward, the two first cowards came back with more men, most likely men that was guarding their territory.

"Find them! I know they're stalkin' around!"  
One of the cowards said, and started to stalk around, having picked up a weapon to use.  
As if it was useful at all. But before Corvo decided he wanted to go down there and kill the rest, he took a look around him, to places he hoped he could spot his assassin. And he found him, stepping across the rooftops, looking like a hunting wolf, about to run at his prey. It was then that Corvo took notice of how severe the burns on his assassin was, burnt patches crowded his leather coat on his back, and a few burnt patches on the side. But only somewhere the oil had touched his skin, and it was not a big area, Corvo could tell when he zoomed in. He wasn't severely hurt. And he was wet, it showed at the shine of his clothes. Apparently he have had a dip in the water, which Corvo commended him for, it did indeed help for the pain of such wounds. The only thing Corvo could do to get his attention was to go down there and fight, so that's exactly what he did, jumping from the post he was, and rolled to catch the fall, and immediately after getting up, drew his sword and stepped towards his enemies. One of them suddenly was shot with a sleep dart, and Corvo knew it was his assassin, who now appeared at his side.  
One of the Hatters immediately went for a swing against Corvo, but he dodged it, moving towards his assassin, but he moved away to give Corvo space. Then he swung at one of the Hatters, wounding him, but it didn't matter. They started to get pretty surrounded, 6 men around them by now. It was either to fight them the hard way, or the easy way.   
The hard way was the best way, both Corvo and the assassin thought of each other. Swords swung towards each other, and slashes was taken, all to the Hatters, some of them stepping back even at the ferocity from the two men they were most certainly a moment ago overpowering with more men. The fight went like a dance for Corvo and his assassin, their movements calculated according to each other, both reading each other well. So they fought like a well oiled machine. Now only three was left, and two of them was hurt to the point of dripping blood. One was oddly enough left alone, only punched and elbowed away whenever he tried to attack. Then kicked down.  
Corvo concentrated on him in the end, though, leaving his assassin to pick off the rest. A crossbow bolt went one of their heads, and the other was slain when he left an opening, the sword lodging itself into his neck, as the man fell, blood spouting onto the Whaler mask.

The Hatter was punched so hard he lost the grip of his sword, and it went sliding away from his, the assassin kicking it out of reach, and into the water, the splash sounding all too loud to the now terrified Hatter.  
The skinny blonde tried to scoot away, knew it was just stupid, but couldn't help himself.

"I-I ain't telling you shit! Just kill me already!" The Hatter managed to say in between his clenched teeth, resisting the urge to just try and grab the swords from the two men hovering over him like monsters from the old tales. The blood painting their clothes helped to make that imagine a lot clearer in the Hatter's head.  
Corvo gestured to his assassin, then to the Hatter, and promptly, the man was knocked out by said man, after screeching as he thought they were seriously going to kill him, and he honestly couldn't help anything that happened with him now. But no, there would be no death for him, not yet. His fate was worse.

Much worse.


	3. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for torture in this chapter! Heads up!

"RAAARGH--!!"

The Hatter roared with a hoarse voice, one that rang in the halls of the room he had previously been held in. One would think all the crates would cushion the echo in the room, but it seemed they did not- as it rang through the three men's ears still, just about making the peeping they had developed from the whale oil explosion worse. Corvo would soothe the pain if he could, his headache more than enough for him, and it hadn't really gotten any better...

But alas, his hands were occupied- holding a heavy steel rod taken from one of the rooftops, with a glowing end that tore through the darkness of the room, making it the centre of attention to all. Attention that didn't waver, especially for the terrified Hatter in the chair before him, the man shaking so badly he was developing a bad rope burn.  
His assassins attention was directed more at the man that was illuminated in the glow rather than the rod itself, eyes wandering across the man's body, reading him from head to toe. It was not that he didn't trust the other with the weapon, it was more out of a very certain interest in what he was doing, and how he was doing it too. How his employer held the weapon, how he applied it, it all was very professionally done. A bit dirty at times, but fair, enough, to the recipient. A man who was very clearly strong of mind and body, despite his thin frame. The assassin's eyes wandered over to him, just in tune as Corvo applied the rod to another part of the Hatter's arm, said man whining to keep the pain from getting the best of him and let lose another scream, for he could most likely tell that neither of the two people in front of him liked it. And it would make his time with them just worse.  
Corvo wanted to stab him through the hand, but knew it would cause a bit too much pain, and kill him unless he decided the rod was useless, then it was just to leave it in there.

Sighing internally, Corvo threw the rod away, it landing against the wall with a metallic, loud bang, and landing hard against the floor, screeching as the metal slide against the wall before going quiet. Quiet as the grave, only the Hatter's loud breathing being hurt. It was clear there wouldn't be anything good coming from him with burns. The Hatter was in tears, but nothing more. He simply gritted his teeth, staring at Corvo, locking eyes with him as he opened that ugly mouth of his, a grin painting his face.

"Just kill me. I'm not telling you shit." He spat ferociously, speaking well for the amount of pain he was in by this point.

Corvo didn't say anything, he simply gestured to his assassin, wanting pliers by the way he moved his hands. Those used to drag nails out of wood, that just laid around in spades. They were most likely used for repairs or maintenance of the machines that spun the fabric for most clothing and other textile items the Hatter's spent their time selling and trading. Illegally, of course.  
The pliers were tapped against the sword holstered on his assassin's waist, and Corvo turned around, supposing he wanted his attention. Quickly he reacted once he saw the assassin's arm rise, and fall rapidly, Corvo catching the pliers midair, nearly missing, however. It didn't matter why he threw them, all that mattered was that Corvo got them. So, he turned back to the Hatter, who looked questioning to the man before him's hands. And a spark of fear found itself in his chest as he realised what he was holding, as he knew exactly what those would usually be used for. And all of suddenly, it rose, the Whaler wandering up to the Butcher's side, and stood ready with his hands behind his back, straight as a soldier from the Navy.

Corvo gestured to his head. Then to the Hatter while facing his assassin.  
The spark turned into a flame in the Hatter's guts as he jerked his head back, the shaking starting up again. He knew what coming. The assassin lounged at him out of the blue, a yelp following from the Hatter as his head was grabbed with very rough hands, the grip around him feeling like it was crushing his skull. He was forced to look down to his hand, that was gripping around the chair he was sitting in by dear life. And now, it was trying so fucking hard to evade the hand that now flattered his own, the pliers getting closer and closer.  
A nail was forcefully removed, the Hatter roared in pain and tears flowing from his eyes that was squeezed shut.

"FINE!" The Hatter roared, trying to tip over the chair so he could get away from them.

"They ain't here- they're fucking scattered! We-... We're lookin' for people- lost a lot of good men to that fucking Daud! We-we're scattered! T-that's what you want- ain't it!?" Tears streamed down the Hatter's face, tears the assassin luckily avoided getting on his gloves, for his grip was more around the back of the head.

With his assassin's back turned to him, Corvo reached out to pat his shoulder, or just touch him, to tell him to let the other go. But he stopped himself just centimetres from making contact, hand hovering before it turned into a fist. Instead he tapped his foot against the floor, his assassin turning his head to see Corvo better. Then he let him go, nodding along.

"N-now you let me go! I did whatcha wanted!" The Hatter demanded more than he pleaded, a mistake in all manner of ways that. But for an odd reason, Corvo only started to walk away, not even giving the Hatter a glance. He dropped the pliers by the crate that was now being pushed away enough to not squeeze through, the Hatter cursing and demanding that they get back as they slipped out. But his words fell on dead ears, and he was left in the room, his own blood painting the floor around his feet. He knew what he had to do to get out of this, he had been through being tied up before, so... He would get out. But it was just to do it. That was the challenge.

 

The two men blinking up on the rooftops didn't care, neither did they talk about it. The assassin only spoke if needed, and Corvo honestly didn't want to think more about that fucking Hatter he had to leave alive. He just wanted to find the man who stole his mask. And quickly too.  
But something in the back of his mind pushed itself through his usual thoughts as he watched the assassin zip across the rooftops before him for a few jumps, the man a bit faster than Corvo at times, since Corvo made sure to be careful when it came to his head.  
He stopped for a moment, his assassin stopping too, as they stood on opposite rooftops, two meters between them, perhaps. The man turned around after standing up from a roll, looking up to Corvo, rain starting to drip onto his mask as it started to rain ever so gently.  
Corvo swore he could see his eyes through the glass from his position, but only guessed it was a reflection of the clouds or so, and Corvo took a moment to really digest what he wanted to say. It was almost like things calmed down for him for a slight moment, Corvo wondering how in the Void he even could feel calm for the moment.

He gestured to his assassin to get up to him. He was there in a moment, keeping a decent distance them. Maybe out of habit, maybe out of respect, it didn't matter now, for Corvo walked up closer to him, and as he did, he gestured his assassin to turn around. But the man didn't heed his orders for once, and stood steadfast, not moving. He just stood staring right at Corvo, he could feel the stare. Corvo crossed his arms, repeating his gesture. Then his assassin only crossed his arms too, and waved dismissively at Corvo.  
Corvo honestly started to get pissed off, and slowly unfolded his arms, reaching out to his assassin's shoulder in full view. He still didn't move, and let Corvo touch him, only staring straight at him. Then Corvo slipped behind him, hand still on the other's shoulder as he moved around him. It didn't leave it's place even when Corvo got to see the damages to his assassin's back, and using his free hand, he patted a part of the assassin's back that was not damaged, with his palm outstretched. as if leaving a hand print there, which he actually could (except it was a glove print), due to the dust and ash. The assassin was about to turn around, but only took a sharp inhale instead.

This caught Corvo's attention, who now moved back to face the other, moving along as he had. The hand finally left his shoulder, and he felt the assassin's eyes tear into him again.

Corvo only nodded, and gestured with his head that they should move.  
So they did, his assassin the first to jump down onto the rooftop again, rolling well over the wet tiles. Corvo joined him after taking a few steps back, getting more speed as he leaped across the gap, rolling as well. He leaped up to see his assassin waiting for him, and starting to run at his side, now keeping up with him and not heading ahead at all. Fucking heck if Corvo didn't only have chance left, he'd fucking punch so hard he would feel it for several days.  
It didn't take them long for Corvo to stop, wondering where in the Void they were supposed to go. Heading to the bar he had picked up his assassin from was pointless, they wouldn't tell them shit after the way they left it. And the next bartender over there would most certainly know to keep their mouth shut, unless it was a former Whaler or so. Corvo rather doubted he had that sort of luck.

He stood for a few too many moments, Corvo noticing his assassin had moved out of sight. He looked around for a while, seeing him stand at the end of the roof, looking down to the streets. ... He...

Corvo frowned for a moment as he looked up to the sky, seeing that there was very likely no end to any sort of rain. So he joined the man, and found that there was a window under them that was no barred a meter or so from them, and broken to the point a man could fit through it without much injury. So, Corvo, without much thought about how slippery it could be, managed well to climb down onto the windowsill above the broken window, holding on for dear life, and somehow was able to fling himself into the window, twisting his body so he could land well. But he landed onto his arm, his left aching for a few moments as he got to his feet, waiting for his assassin to join him while he dug out his notebook. And he did, not having so much luck with the landing either, and had worse luck than Corvo, as he fell onto his wounds. But he got up as if nothing happened, wiping the glass pieces of his mask to see better in the darkness.

'Where can we get information?'

His assassin took up his own book, and showed Corvo a few options.  
A bar a while, some fence that the whalers used to have... Street urchins.

All sort of pointless in Corvo's eyes. Corvo pointed to the second option, his assassin nodding along. Then he waved to Corvo to follow him, and they slipped out into the rain again, this time his assassin jumping down to the streets. It was nearing late lunchtime by now, most nobles would be done with their morning strolls, so it would be relatively empty streets for now, until most shops opened after their usual break. So Corvo trusted his assassin's decision, and followed him down, landing by his side before they started to wander deeper into Dunwall's middle districts, the rain soothing one of them, torturing the latter, making his headache worse.

 

It didn't take as long as Corvo expected before his assassin stood holding up the door to him. This seemed like it was the shop of a black market, but one more furnished and fortified for the guard than most others Corvo has seen so far in his travels. It was a proper establishment, not one to joke around as it seemed. Either that, or it was just one of many places the fence stayed at. Corvo guessed the latter.  
He followed his assassin more than he would care to admit at this point, Corvo feeling like a lost wolfhound puppy. But the feeling faded as his assassin opened another door, wooden this time, and found a man sitting by a huge workshop there, a big, muscular man.

Corvo peeked out from behind his assassin, and was soon in full view, for said man stepped to hold the door open for his employer, Corvo stepping in as he was offered. And then his assassin slipped out of the door. And Corvo heard him walk away.

Not too sure about this, Corvo looked back to the door, hearing chuckling in front of him, which ad him look back to the man in the workshop. A dull thud followed the chuckle, them an putting away his tools.

"A friend, is it? Glad to have your patronage." He said, voice clear as day, yet smoke broken. "Know who that was- that Whaler? Would love to say hi, I'm a former Whaler, after all!" He grinned, Corvo's eyes wandering over the man to place him within a reasonable category else than Whaler. Then, the puzzle pieces set in his mind. His Whaler left him so he could talk.  
Corvo cleared his throat, finding his voice again.

"I'd rather get to the point. Have you heard something about the Hatter's gathering men?"  
The fence stared at Corvo for a moment, the cogs in his head working, it was clear as day on his face. He was very easy to read, perhaps he was still used to his mask, or missed it.

"I'm not giving away information like that to just anyone. Tell me who you are first. I'll start; names Andrei. And yours?"

"And you want coin too, then? What if we skip the names and go straight to the coin?"

"Nope. Name. And the name of your Whaler friend." He crossed his arms, a stubborn man, who had no idea who he was talking to.

Corvo frowned deeply behind his bandanna, brows furrowing almost as deeply as he moved towards the fence, his sword drawn in a quick pace. The fence wasn't unarmed, and he drew his sword as well, a familiar blade, just as his assassin's, holding it up between the two of them, face showing that he was taken off guard.

"The Butcher." Corvo muttered, his voice reflecting the anger he had about this. "And just an assassin. I'll take that information now."

The fence's eyes widened. What sort of madman of a Whaler would stick around with the BUTCHER? Or was it an impersonator? The mask was missing. And the whaler gave no name... But- ah- of course. The sword. Yup, that was the Butcher. Or, Corvo Attano. A lot of thoughts swirled around his head, and some of them was caution as he confirmed the man's identity.  
"... I'm calm." Andrei said, and withdrew his sword carefully, making sure Corvo saw it, even though he TRULY didn't want to. He wanted Corvo dead. Begrudgingly wanting to keep his life for now, he opened his mouth. "I have heard about them, yes. They're scattered all around Dunwall, but do have lodgings around the Old Port District. At least a small part. I'd start there. Overheard some of them muttering about going home as they bought some stuff off me."

Corvo withdrew his sword as well now, and stepped back while facing the former whaler.

Watching Corvo walk away, the feeling that had been developing in the former Whaler's chest made him say something he would surely regret...; "You know, you'll pay for what you've done." Andrei said clearly after him as Corvo turned around, making Corvo stop right there, holding the door open.

"Let them come." Corvo said, an odd light tone in his voice, one could almost hear the smile he got. Though he didn't turn around. "I'm not stopping."

And with this, Corvo exited the shop, the Whaler staring after Corvo, a hint of fear, something he hadn't felt in literal years.

 

Corvo walked back where they came from, keeping an eye out to find his assassin, who was nowhere to be seen in the building so far. But there was a lingering smell of Cullero Cigars, Corvo even seeing some of the smoke floating up to the roof. So, Corvo kicked open the heavy scrap door, finding his assassin outside, leaning against the wall right said door, arms crossed. He was wearing his mask, the glass not too wet, meaning he had spent most of the time inside smoking.  
Relieved to a point, Corvo waved to him to follow him, and they moved quickly, climbing up to the rooftops to gain a grander view of the city under them, and to keep away from guards. For the district they were heading off to were in the progress of being cleaned, for future renovations and rebuilding. Corvo had made sure that this would be the case, before his eventual departure from the Tower.  
His assassin kept to his side whenever he could as usual, the rain pounding against them as they ran and jumped over the rooftops. Maybe a sign to keep away? To turn back? Whatever sign it was, the two men ignored it.

Though, they didn't ignore it so much once they reached Kaldwin's Bridge after having passed Sokolov's home, the place pretty empty due to the man being out curing the plague. The two needed to stick to the metal supports and making sure to blink carefully through the bridge itself, for there were a lot of guards there, however. This was to stop any weepers from crossing it to the Boyle Mansion and other places, and even though Corvo and his assassin was no weepers, they would most certainly be recognised as threats, and dealt with thus. So they avoided them when they could, just to not waste more time than they already had.  
However when they had to take the stairs leading up to the control room, Corvo quietly assassinated the guard wandering there. His assassin caught the man and brought him over his shoulder, carrying him with them as they tracked along up the stairs, and blinked to get up high. The bridge hadn't been worked on since the last time Corvo visited it, he noted that as they climbed, his assassin still having the man over his shoulder, though.  
Hrmp, Corvo paid no mind to it, and just kept concentrating on getting up.

Before they knew it, they had reached the top, his assassin looking down onto the bridge itself, standing awfully close to the edge. Corvo took a mental note, and tapped his foot, gaining his assassin's attention. He pointed up, meaning he wanted to step across the very top of the bridge, the metal beams stretching out to the other side. His assassin nodded, and they both ended up on there, wandering carefully. Corvo though, like last time he was there, stopped, and settled down onto the edge, facing the direction of the Tower. Just to take a little break, his headache still not gone.  
His assassin stood at his side, and looked down for a moment, before he casually flung the body of the guard over the edge, both men watching it plunge down into the water, creating a huge splash. There were no guards on the bridge itself, as it was raised, so it wasn't noticed.  
Corvo huffed, stiffing a chuckle. It was just a bit too comical, seeing him fall like that.

Then he looked to his assassin, and offered him a seat by his side. Oddly enough, the man took the offer, and settled down, legs hanging down over the edge. They didn't sit particularly close, perhaps two meters from each other, but still the situation felt very friendly. Corvo brought up his book, and wrote a few sentences. 'Got a headache- it is not going away. Needed the break.'

His assassin held out a hand, and Corvo handed him the book and pencil.

'Just don't fall.'  
Corvo nodded, and closed the book, putting it back.  
The view from up on the bridge was stunning, to say the least, so Corvo's eyes wandered out towards Dunwall, and it's vastness. His assassin was looking out as well, Corvo not really minding. A few minutes passed, and Corvo got up, feeling like he could concentrate better again, so they both sprung up, running across the bridge, and blinked down to the bridges beams that lead down to the ground level, after slipping down as far as they could.

And making a plan up on the spot, he gestured to his assassin to blink down, in three... Two... One...  
And both of them appeared right in front of a few guards, as there were quite a lot around the parts. Why, neither Corvo nor his assassin cared to think about.

"Shit!" A guard yelled, and called for his associates in the process. The two intruders were quickly swarmed, and first now after some moments of watching them, they drew their swords, almost doing so synchronised. It was not intentional, but did result in some unsure faces, but still they attacked.  
The assassin was the first to dodge one of the few swipes, and promptly moved in skilfully, kneeing the guard that wasn't doing much in the stomach, promptly swinging around in front of him as he coughed violently to get back his breath. And now a head flew off the shoulders of the guard about to sucker punch Corvo, the Butcher of Dunwall busy with three of the guards, using his superior sidestepping to avoid the attacks, and just slice the guards ever so slightly, not out of mercy like always, but to toy with them. And to make the fight last. But he realised that it was something he had failed to tell his assassin, so the ones he had on him fell quickly before him, his assassin not opposed to using dirty tricks, such as ducking away from clumsy and departed swings, and drive his sword into a guards thigh, slicing it open using nothing but his own strength. And honestly when Corvo saw those moves, he forgot for a slight moment that he was in a fight himself, and managed to get elbowed right in his nose, grunting as he stumbled back. And pretending to recoil, he got the guards to gain more confidence and lounge for an attack. They all ended with deep cuts in their sides and stomach after Corvo squatted down and moved along, ending up getting up just by his assassin's side after cutting them, who had grabbed a man's head, and just as Corvo looked up, the man was decapitated, head tangling from the assassin's hand. Then... Thrown at the remaining guards, who all actually stopped for a moment as they saw the head roll before them, the expression frozen in raw pain.  
The Butcher and his assassin used this to move in using their blinks, and the two guards by the last one fell within seconds, and he actually screamed as one of them fell onto him, and landed hard.

"FUCK!" He roared, and wildly flung his sword, missing each and every swing. And worse of all, the two monsters before him didn't even move, just looked at the sword fly. And that scared the guard more, and he last one could hear was a blood curling scream, as he got a sword into his stomach, and then into his neck, Corvo and his assassin working together.  
As the last guard fell, his assassin sheathed his blade, the same did Corvo after he swung it hard to the side, just to get some blood drops off it.  
Having a feeling they were being watched, Corvo turned towards the city again, the streets seeming as inviting as always. He waved to his assassin, and they were off to look through the streets. Every building they went through they took what they found useful, food, coin, or notes that seemed to be interesting. After a few apartments, they in the end stopped in one high up, Corvo the one to do so. He then picked up the apple he got form the very empty guards post, and held it out for his assassin, who understood his reasons. So they both got some distance from each other and settled to eat. Corvo was out on the balcony, not minding the pounding rain for once, as his headache had slowly, but surely gotten better.  
As he ate his apple and looked over the city, he figured that if the sun was out, it would start to go down by now. Tomorrow, around noon, he would lose the assassin if he didn't cough up another 100 coin. It wouldn't be a problem, not at all, so he supposed, there was nothing more to think about. Though, he wanted to make sure to spend the time he paid for, for 100 coin for three days was a lot of coin. More than most would take, but seeing how he fought, it was well worth it, though.  
Corvo threw the last of his apple into the street, watching some rats eat at it until it was completely gone as he continued to eat the other food.  
Inside of the apartment they were resting in, the assassin stroked at his beard, it had been a few days since he had been back to his place and had time to shave. It was getting awfully itchy, but it was nothing horrible. The injuries on his back was worst, he couldn't deny that he was in pain, and it would be nice to get done with this, so he could turn some attention to them. First thing to do was to tear off the dried blood and skin. He needed a smaller knife for that...  
He found himself trailing off, just eating as he listened for movements outside on the balcony. To his employer, who honestly made it seem for every fight they were in that he didn't really need a bodyguard. But if the coin was there, he would be. And honestly, it was hard to not wonder where someone like him came from. He knew torture methods, and had skills with the sword rivalling his own. It was impressive to watch.  
And his blood lust was a refreshing thing. It had been too long since the assassin could fight like this.

Corvo knocked on the door, the same knock that they had made less than a day before. And it was good, for the assassin was just done eating, so he pulled down his mask, hiding his mouth and beard, and got up, wandering over to the door, and opened it to his employer, who just had opened it himself, ending up just mere centimetres away from his assassin, who's mask bumped the top of his head.  
Corvo straightened his back, and nodded, gesturing for them to move out.

And they did, proceeding with their search. And this time, it luckily didn't take too long before they found lights from some barred up windows, and talking. It was an industrial building, with many barred up doors and windows, all with some sort of sturdy metal or so, meaning it would be hard to get in without seeing the bouncer. If there was one, of course.  
Looking to his assassin from the place, he nodded along, thinking it was best to head inside. So by now, they got to a higher point to stay out of sight, and moved along the rooftops surrounding the building to get a view of it, looking around to find a door of some kind. There was one, on the far end of the side facing the river, and also a few bodies.  
From the state of them, it looked like they had been beaten to death, which meant only one thing. His assassin was suddenly gone, as he jumped up to the top of the building, blinking the last of the way. Corvo followed suit, but somehow didn't manage to get a good grip as he did, about to slip out of surprise that he miscalculated. His hand was grabbed by his assassin though, and he was helped up, the man not having any sort of problems, just needing to take a hold of Corvo's coat at the back of his shoulders, dragging him up. Not really needing the help, he let his assassin do his work, not bothering to thank him.  
Though, the man went right back to his work again, and headed over to the exhaust windows that luckily were up there, none of them damaged though, so they would have to make some noise if they wanted to enter from that place. Joining his assassin, a fighting ring met them, where some very familiar hats showed themselves.

But it was few of them, maybe up to 6, and the other men there seemed like people from other gangs, or just men wanting to join the gang.

So this was how they picked up people.  
Corvo gave a glance to his assassin, who started to pick up his book, Corvo just putting a hand on it, as if telling him to not bother. He pointed down to the fighting ring, and gestured to him to follow. Nodding, they jumped down from the rooftop, away from the door, to not seem too suspicious. At least, not any more than they already were.  
The assassin went in first, and Corvo second, the two of them keeping close for the moment. Not so close it seemed like they were together, in a certain sense, but just enough that they might as well be friends. One of the arrangers noticed them as they stood looking around for a moment, and headed up towards them.

"It's fight or scram here. So--. What've we got here... A Whaler. And a master one at that! One would think yous be too high and mighty for us Hatters." He said loud enough to get over the roaring of the men when a fight started. He had a mocking tone, the assassin only staring at him for a moment, and then looked away, to where the Hatter came from.

Corvo looked questioning at him, then to the Hatter. It was not the man he was looking for, so how in the Void were they supposed to get in?  
But suddenly his assassin fished up 15 in coin, and gave it to the Hatter, who took the money with a big grin on his face. "Ten more for your ass. You're too good." He muttered, and the assassin paid up. Then the Hatter left the two of them alone.  
His assassin handed Corvo his equipment and coin, one by one, gestured to Corvo to walk, and then turned his back to him, heading off to the back to get ready for the ring... Corvo stood with the equipment in hand, mouth half agape. First of all, his injuries looked bad, and secondly... He had his things. ... But he pocketed the things quickly, before anyone took notice of him holding all those things. Without his mask he wasn't really as respected as he should be, so it was best to be careful. Even with his assassin he knew he couldn't take on well over 20-30 men at once.  
Now that Corvo was free to wander around as he pleased, he headed on over to the ring, hoping he would get a better view of most of the men in the building. He pushed away some drunk idiots who were taking up too much space, none of them honestly caring as they had too much fun, and now Corvo found himself at the railing of the place, just a makeshift thing that they had made themselves. It meant there was a lot of coin in this, if they went to these sort of lengths for this. And Corvo got it too, the district was run down and in a sense, forgotten as the Flooded District.  
With eyes wandering, Corvo got more and more annoyed at the absence of the man he sought out. It was then to look down into the ring, although he doubted he would be there. There he found two burly men, all bloodied and battered, Corvo not seeming to care for either of them, as he looked back up, and stepped away from the railing, starting to walk around more, even passing the Hatter that spoke to him and his assassin earlier, whom sat at a table, taking bets. Behind him was a room, locked up with the coin, and on the table, sheets of paper for betting.

Corvo stopped by the table, and saw that a poll for the Whaler vs Rowdney had already been set up. Corvo casually fished out some of his own coin, and bet on the Whaler, pointing with the handful of coin on the Whaler.  
"Pssh- good luck. Rowdney's gonna snap his neck." The Hatter muttered as he took the coin.

Corvo paid no mind to the mockery and continued to look while the fight in the ring started to come to a stop, the crowd most certainly keeping both the assassin and Corvo updated on this.  
"OUT!" Everyone roared, their voices all caught up in the excitement of the fight. "ROWDNEY, ROWDNEY, ROWDNEY!" Everyone chanted, Corvo's ears ringing, and his headache acting up again.

It just meant one thing, and luckily was that, as he didn't find his target anywhere in the crowd. So it meant that he could watch the next fight, heading out to the railing again, pushing away another idiot, and found his assassin heading out under the upper part of the ring, shirtless, and very ready to fight. He still had his hood on, and it was tucked under the mask in order to stay put. It looked odd, but there was a Voiddamned good reason for it.  
The crowd started to boo, like they most likely did anyone who opposed their star fighter. Rowdney, the brute of a man, drew his sword, while the assassin cracked his knuckles, keeping his hand off his sword for now.

It was just to start, Rowdney the first to lounge an attack at the assassin, who skilfully avoided it, many of the men in the ring taking notice of his back now, and started to mock the assassin for his injuries. But their mockery fell on deaf ears, as the assassin was fully committed to this fight, and to make it as quick as possible. For now, he observed the man's attacks, seeing his form, and making a plan how to approach this, avoiding every swing skilfully. And he was quick on his feet too, even rolling along the wooden floor as he went on, and scooting away from the man as he clumsily tried to get a hit in.

"Fucking get hit you bastard!!" Rowdney roared, and noticed his opponent a bit too close all of sudden, the hulking brute suddenly jumping back from the man. How...!?  
Before he could gain his balance properly, the assassin punched the man so damned hard onto his nose he broke it, and sent the man stumbling back. While he recovered, the assassin paced back and forth, cracking his knuckles again, and shaking off the blood he got on his fist. Rowdney gritted his teeth, anger painting his face as he pretended to swing at the other, but instead started to lounge at the assassin, who made a game out of it, and slipped under his arms, and to the side, giving the man a solid punch in the stomach as he did. Then as he kept his hand there, he twisted toward him, and elbowed him very hard right in his spine, making the man screech in pain. The crowd was still cheering for their star, Corvo not cheering at all, rather, he made sure none of the men he could reach to would throw any stray bottles, happening to knock them down from the railing and to their feet instead when they were too busy with stumbling around like idiots.

The assassin let Rowdney get up, standing a bit odd due to a sudden pain in his legs. But he didn't let it stop him, as he let himself pretend to he going after the assassin, but instead, managed to land a punch to the man's waist, right where he had bandages, a very dirty trick, but it was more than allowed in this ring. The assassin let him do so, and grabbed his arm, Rowdney now realising what he had done, as he was flung and smashed into the wall, face first, and there the assassin kept doing it, several times until Rowdney managed to kick him away clumsily, his nose broken beyond what was good, and his face a mess, for the assassin made the entire woodwork the crowd was standing on shake ever so slightly...  
Stepping back to avoid the swing Rowdney delivered, the assassin failed to move as he intended due to the pain to his waist, and made a mistake, as Rowdney's sword lodged itself into the assassins' shoulder, not too deeply, but still, Rowdney grinning from ear to ear as he realised he managed to get a pretty good hit on this Whaler. And he took a break of a few seconds, one that cost him his life, for in his surprise the assassin had moved despite the pain of the sword and knocked the sword out of his hand up, and out of his hand, as well as the assassins' shoulder, tearing it out painfully. And then, the assassin got the sword, and... Rowdney stood with his own sword on his neck.  
The assassin looked over the sword, drew his own with his free hand, and threw the sword away as he decapitated Rowdney, letting the head fling to the side, blood splattering all over the walls and floor, though it only mixed with what was already on these surfaces.

The assassin stood victorious, fed up with the fight, and sheathed his sword again. It all ended so quickly, most of the crowd had ended up quiet, stunned. Corvo was only smirking under his bandanna, but showed no joy for this. It could prove to be stupid.  
"What?"

"Fuck..."

 

"Shit!"  
These words all rang though the more quiet, many men realising that their bets were all going to be paid out now.

Corvo got off the railing, and headed over to the Hatter handling the bets, who grumbled as he paid Corvo quite the sun, apparently a lot of people had placed bets for Rowdney. And now he laid dead.  
Some commotion happened behind him though, as he heard angry yelling, enough to gain his attention as he placed over 100 coin in his assassin's coin purse. Then he saw several men, maybe 4 or five, jump into the ring from over the railing. Quick to get the coin into his pockets, Corvo actually ran towards the railing and jumped down himself, landing on one of the men that now challenged him.

"You're not escapin' with his blood you fucking piece of shit!" The bigger one of them said loudly, most of the crowd that had left coming back for the show. And most of them seemed confused at the other man who joined in, for he was drawing his sword, and now stepped carefully over to the Whaler, the two of them standing back to back.

"Oh- you're protectin' him!? You fucking Whaler's don't know when to quit!" And so another fight ensued, one that was far from fair, and Corvo and Daud both knew it. They were all sort of weighed down, so now it was no fucking way they'd toy with them. Corvo patted his assassin's arm, and the man only nodded. One of the five men that had gathered lounged to them, together with a second, and a third. And Corvo took care of the third one, driving a sword into his stomach when he attempted to stab at his assassin, who avoided the single sword, and the other bottle, that unfortunately hit him, straight on the forehead. But as if it mattered, his assassin gutting the man who threw it only a second later after taking a few steps towards him, and knocked the one with the sword off his feet right after, leaving an opening. That Corvo used as his two men laid dead, Corvo having made short work of them as they had been sort of unsure about how to attack.  
Now standing with 6 bodies around them, Corvo and his assassin walked out before more drunk bastards got the idea to go down there. But the crowd was quiet, and most of them were muttering under their breath. Perhaps this proved that they shouldn't fuck around with whalers, Corvo thought to himself, and... Paused for a moment. Wondering why he did so.  
He stood looking at the place they came from while he let his assassin get his things, the man joining his side as he was done, the man holding a few rolls of bandage in his hand. And so, they headed out.

Blinking up to a rooftop overlooking the door, Corvo stopped his assassin and gestured for him to sit down. He did so, and Corvo took out his book, writing a few sentences. 

'We wait until the Hatter's leave. Then we kidnap one of them.  
Are you okay?'

The assassin looked over the words on the page, and held out his hand, Corvo handing him his book and pencil. Then got up all his things, and placed it beside the man as said man wrote back.

'Understood. My health doesn't matter.' He showed Corvo the rolls he had, and all Corvo could do was to nod, and take back his book, staring down into it for a while. Then his assassin moved a bit from the edge of the rooftop, and started to work on bandaging his shoulder. His bandages was spent on that wound, the man somehow managing to do a good enough job of it, Corvo catching himself watching him again, something he took a mental note of stopping.  
Then he wrote some more words, and quickly showed the book to his assassin. 'Why does it not matter? As well, I paid you for three more days.'

Pausing, the assassin picked up his stuff, first his coin purse, and indeed, found 100 coin there. He nodded, as a thank you or an understood, one could only guess. Then he went to the edge again, sitting there by Corvo's side, who took his eyes off his assassin for a moment. Then a snap of the fingers caught his attention again, and he found the book before him. 'I will die for you. And I owe you for the help in the ring.' Then 50 coins were given back to Corvo, his assassin's gloved and bloodied hand touching Corvo's in the progress. Nodding, Corvo looked to the coin, then to his assassin. He knew this, so why did he feel like he shouldn't...? ...  
... Corvo tore his sight back to the door.

And thus they sat there for a while as the cold from the night started to creep into their bones, as they waited for their prey.


	4. Fear

Having done nothing but to wait for what seemed like hours, Corvo was picking at a stray thread on his glove, clearly bored. He knew his assassin kept an eye out for him, so he could look away for a moment if he wanted to. And he did, several times, and even found that his line of sight aligned with where his assassin was sitting. He was sitting very casually, the rain hitting him as if he belonged up there, droplets falling off his mask and hood like nothing. And fingers too, for he rested his hand on his knee. Considering the way he was sitting, legs crossed and his back straight, he was either meditating, or just very relaxed. Corvo would ask if he could, but let him have his peace.  
Still didn't stop him from staring, though. He stared as orange coloured water dripped down the roof, followed it for a moment.

Corvo took a deep breath, and got up. 

He wandered the few steps needed to reach him, and reached out a hand as he moved closer, the assassin turning his head towards him as he looked up at him. He seemed to have a questioning way of looking at him, and watched Corvo's hand touch his shoulder, then to Corvo's face, that was close. Too close.  
Within a second Corvo wrapped the hand on his shoulder around the assassin's neck without warning, the man gasping on instinct, but it was luckily muffled by the mask. Corvo started to drag him up from his sitting position, to get him high enough so that his legs wasn't in contact with the roof anymore, but it proved to be difficult, for his assassin got a hand on his hood, and gripped it hard, tearing at Corvo's head to actually get it closer... And then he twisted his body as well as he could, got Corvo's head with his other arm, and moved it into such a position, Corvo stopped. With his assassin halfly up, only kept up by Corvo's arms. The position was painful for both of them, so... Corvo lightened his grip a bit, enough to let his assassin breathe, and the man slowly let go off Corvo, said man now moving up, allowing his assassin to use him as a wall to get up properly with, because if he stepped away now, he would fall on his back, with no time to catch himself. Corvo let him go as he stood up, but instead... He put his hands on his assassin's shoulders, as if to try and calm him down, for judging from the heavy breathing, he was pissed. He almost seemed like a wild wolf, if he was snarling, he would had completed the image.

The hands didn't stop him from turning around though, so Corvo just moved along with him. The whole situation like a dangerous dance, to a point. Whaler gloves lounged after Corvo, but he missed every time, and Corvo swore he could hear some pained inhales, as the man moved less naturally than he should, most likely meaning he was tearing up his wounds worse. Corvo kept this up until his assassin just stopped. And with that, he suddenly disappeared, Corvo knowing all too well what he had done, so he was quick to look around.

Without a pause Corvo felt a sharp pain in his back. A VERY sharp pain, that made him arch back, nearly letting out a pained sound. And with that, a sword was drawn in a very quick pace, Corvo keeping eerily silent, as he waited for the precious seconds he had for what was coming.  
But the sword went as a blur in front of him, and was held up to his neck, instead of being lodged into it. Corvo took quick breaths, in and out, as he just... Didn't understand why the assassin hesitated.He gave Corvo a chance to get out like this. Even if Corvo wanted to, he stopped himself... For the first time in years, he... He had to...  
Corvo placed a outstretched hand on the assassins arm, and patted it once. The arm didn't move. So, Corvo used a finger, and traced it against the man's arm, hard enough so he would feel it, each letter after each other on the same place. 

'Help. U'

...

It took more time than Corvo was comfortable with, but the assassin's blade moved away. The arm keeping Corvo there that ws wrapped around his chest was removed too. Corvo let out a relived sigh, and turned around to his assassin, ho put his sword back at his hip. Their eyes met, and they kept their gazes for a while. Talking without words.  
In the end, Corvo nodded, and his assassin followed, the nods deeper than usual. An agreement, and understanding.

 

Then, his assassin walked away after a few seconds, and sat down onto the edge of the roof again, Corvo letting him go. He just stood there for a while, watching his assassin... Until, Corvo settled down, the realisation of everything that had just happened washing over him, as he held his head for a moment, headache only worsening--

 

"Fuckin' damned- I'll see 'em dead."

Corvo ears perked up, as well as the rest of the man as he heard the familiar voice, one he had heard only hours ago. Scooting over to the edge as he had settled a bit far from it, be joined his assassins side, oddly enough very closely, as they both surveyed the man wandering along the tall walls that surrounded him. They spotted a bandage on his hand going up his arm, where the sleeve was rolled up.  
They didn't even need to look to each other to confirm their thoughts about who this gentleman was, stumbling through the alleyways like a wolfhound with it's tail between it's legs. But still with a lot of bark.

This either meant trouble, or it was nothing, and both options, neither of the men bothered to comment on, while they watched the Hatter wander into the fighting ring, the door slamming shut behind him like thunder in the rain. Relaxing, and turning to his assassin, the man was simply looking over the streets, eyes glued to the point he didn't notice when Corvo tried to wave to get his attention. So instead, Corvo waved two fingers in front of the man, who jerked his head back in surprise, but nothing more. Then he made a sharp turn towards Corvo, and tilted his head, as if asking what he wanted.

Corvo gestured to the rooftop, and showed one finger. Getting the meaning of the order, the assassin blinked from his sitting position, and fell a short distance from up in the air over on the roof of the fighting ring, heading over to the windows from the place. He peered down, and kept scouting for a while. A good while. Corvo couldn't help but to let his eyes rest on his assassin occasionally, watching the injuries on his back bleed for a few moments. Seep out blood, energy.  
Frowning, Corvo blinked to the rooftop too, and joined his side. But Corvo's eyes wandered over to the back room where his assassin had left his things, and kept an eye on it, as if looking for men to exit. But at the moment there were no fights, so it was likely there was nobody there. A good thing, for sure. But they wouldn't be welcomed back so warmly, especially now that Corvo noted what Daud was watching, the Hatter from Draper's Ward were conversing with his fellow Hatter's, most likely reporting about the attack that the place suffered earlier, for a certain horror was written across the men's faces, one that Corvo recognised more as anger than fear.  
A common reaction, for sure.

He knew what the had to do in order to get more information, but hesitated for a moment. And looked over to his assassin.

His gaze lingered, and soon the assassin's gaze met his, and for once, Corvo didn't jerk away. His lips thinned, but he had to get this done. Had to find his mask. His _face_. So, he tapped at the glass, gesturing his assassin to get ready, and with that, Corvo shattered the glass by kicking it with the heel of his boot, avoiding getting any glass shards in his leg in the process. The Hatter's all reacted, including some of the "soon to be" Hatter's who hadn't left before. And soon they saw two figures flying down the roof and onto several big crates with supplies, all stacked high in the tall room.

The entire room went hostile as a roar from the Hatter's rallied every man in the building for a fight.

"1000 COIN TO THE MAN WHO FELLS 'EM!"  
"I'M GONNA GUT YOU GOOD!"

These were just some of the few things the two men heard, and like always, they didn't care for that kind of shit throwing. Instead, Corvo nudged his assassin for a slight moment, and told him to take the man who took the bet's earlier, with only gestures, and this quickly too, for the men was fumbling with their pistols to get the two of them down. The assassin nodded to this, and just as several gunshots were heard, he stopped time, the whispers from the Void and the grey view nearly mirroring the weather outside.  
They didn't stand around for a single second, each and every one of them took off to where they had to go, the assassin kidnapping the man after stabbing him with a sleeping dart, as there was no need to use his wristbow for something so trivial. And it had been used until it was warm, for there were now several bolts hovering in the air, right in front of the Hatter's face, just waiting for time to resume again.  
Corvo left for the backrooms, and took a clean towel from there, at least he hoped it was so, and stashed whatever medical supplies he could find in it, including bandages and elixir. Then he hurried out, but found that he had too little time left, just seeing the door close as time resumed.

Switching which hand he carried the makeshift bag in quickly, Corvo stopped time, the Hatter's not spooked by the sudden flurry of blood and corpses around him having seen the man as he stumbled, and were on their way towards him.  
But Corvo moved through time, calmly, although he wanted to run, to just get this over with.  
... But- he let himself kill the man closest to him as he passed him, which was the Hatter who ratted them out, slitting his throat with his sword as if it was paper. He shock his sword and slipped out of the door, leaving blood drops to fall as time resumed again, leaving a bit of a trail, but it wouldn't matter now.

Feeling dissatisfied with leaving most of them alive, he knew he couldn't take them all on inside of there, as well with that damned headache he got. And his assassin was not dying from him, no, not yet. So Corvo would just have to bear it, as he found his way up to the rooftop, finding his assassin up there, with the Hatter unconscious over his shoulder, about to put him down onto the roof. Somehow while he climbed, he managed to keep his concentration up, despite the angry and indistinct yelling coming from the fighting ring behind him, and the door flying open, the yelling only getting worse as almost all of the men scattered to the streets under them, to look for the intruders. The two men with very high bounties on their heads too, which the Hatter's most certainly understood by now.

Corvo went straight to his assassin, and casually brought out a sleep dart from his belt. It was one of many he had picked up just to have something to hurt people with in case he was out of bolts. Use them right, and one could tear open blood vessels like it was nothing, the needle was strong enough for such.  
And so, with a swift move, Corvo stabbed the Hatter with the dart, injecting him with the serum, just in case. His assassin didn't seem to mind, he only made sure that Corvo remembered to remove it. Pulling it out, Corvo left for the edge of the rooftop and threw it down, a while from the Hatter's, to the opposite direction of where they were stationed. With a very quick turn Corvo went back to his assassin, and brought the Hatter over his shoulder, pulling him up and onto his shoulder. Feeling the assassin stare at him, Corvo only ignored it, and gestured for them to move out, after handing his assassin the towel-bag.  
And thus Corvo kicked off, running across the the rooftops, and spent his arcane magic more than he had in a while. His assassin followed as usual, only his jumps were less daring. He left a trail of blood droplets, few inbetween, but luckily, it was washed away quickly.

Eventually they found themselves on the road back to his assassin's hideout, the man stopping, and Corvo not noticing it before he had run a while over the next rooftop, looking back to the man in the rain. There were only a few minutes away, the apartment and it's balcony already visible behind Corvo for the assassin.  
Feeling annoyance creep up to him again, Corvo gritted his teeth, and gestured with his entire body, asking why he didn't want to more with his hand than body, but it didn't matter. 

A moment of silence followed, the assassin visibility looking away. He shock his head.

Corvo pointed to the Hatter- and his assassin nodded. With that reply, Corvo wandered up to him, blinking across the rooftop, and stood at his side. He pointed to the building beside them, then heaved the Hatter on his shoulder a bit. Getting what he meant, without hesitation, the man beside him nodded, agreeing. They moved out immediately, the two of them stopping by the neighbouring apartment building, and figuring out how to store the Hatter, until they needed him.  
So they tied him up to a chair they found lying about, one that seemed more sturdy than the rest, using ropes, all over him, in fact. And, a piece of old clothing that was laying about as a gag, making sure he couldn't call for help.  
With this done, and after supposedly admiring their handy work, the two men left the Hatter there to wake up, making sure the door outside was locked. Once they were done back in the apartment, they would come back and set up some traps. 

But first.

 

As soon as they stepped inside, the assassin was quick to take off his very heavy leather coat, Corvo following straight after. They both proceeded to dress down, the assassin putting their clothing close to the fireplace, that Corvo ignited using a flame bolt, to make short work of it. With this done they settled down, Daud in his chair, and Corvo in the couch, the fireplace already letting out some warmth, and it was good, for it helped to dry them both up, as they could honestly not sit around naked... So both were clad in pants and their undershirts, just sitting silently, taking a breather from behind their masks.  
As time ticked by for both of them, Corvo took a glance towards his assassin's shoulder, seeing a big red spot on his shirt, under where it had been cut. The assassin seemed to evade looking to Corvo, and in the end, sat more up, having been hunched up out of exhaustion, most likely. Then he reached over to the cooking station, and picked up a sharp knife, twisting it open in his hand. He then used his shirt, Corvo first now seeing the man's hands, and the Mark. They were full of scars, and a few minor cuts. The hands were rough and strong, and Corvo... Honestly wondered why he stared at them.  
Then his assassin moved, headed to the fireplace. Held the knife in it for a while, moving it around to evenly to... Supposedly clean it.

Then the assassin disappeared into the hallway, the door creaking open, and shutting afterwards.

Then only a minute later the man came out. It seemed like he didn't need the knife after all, Corvo honestly glad. With this done he actually handed the knife to Corvo, their fingers touching ever so slightly. His assassin gestured to Corvo to scoot over, and Corvo did, getting the man sitting right beside him, not far. And with a roll of bandage in hand, the assassin started to wrap it around himself, Corvo helping him doing so, and cut the roll when it was needed, helping to tie it up too in the back to keep it from being an annoyance. His assassin was breathing heavily, clearly in pain, but still there, not letting said thing get the best of him.  
With his assassin's wounds at least protected from the elements now, said man got up, leaving Corvo in the couch, who... Actually took the man's wrist, and stopped him. He then got up, placed a hand on the man's stomach, as his chest was out of boundaries, and actually got the assassin down into the couch. Corvo found it odd how he let himself do so, but found that asking would be stupid.

He then pointed out, and to himself. The assassin didn't give a direct reply, and instead moved to lie down, doing so onto his good side, draping the blanket over him.

Stunned to a point, Corvo stepped out, at least a bit warmer than before, and quickly headed to the Hatter. It was time for answers. A reason for all this.  
By the time Corvo took a bit of a hasty route, he managed to slip, and hit his head against a windowsill before he managed to blink away, leaving a gash over the outer part of his eyebrow, the man only grunting, letting it be as he let go of the ledge he was holding onto, getting in through the front door, for as he already did fall and had to skip further down, he honestly had no will to climb back up.

The Hatter in the room wasn't awake just yet, most likely he would snore for another hour or so if the sleep dart worked as it should. So Corvo punched him hard enough to wake him, blood already spilling out of his mouth and nose, even before he lifted that ugly head of his. Corvo stood as normal, blood both on his forehead and fist.  
Several punches followed right after the first one, Corvo's attacks relentless, and out of the blue. His arms went up high for every punch, making the Hatter nearly choke on his gag, biting into it to avoid it, but it made him lose a tooth, and it edged itself into the old cloth; that tasted like shit to say the least.  
Giving the Hatter a chance to breathe, Corvo dragged the cloth out and threw it to the side. The man proceeded to cough violently, and once he felt a hand on his jaw, his eyes shot up, angry eyes glaring at Corvo. It took him a moment to understand who it was, and what was coming, and gasped once another punch came onto his forehead, nearly knocking him out and most certainly throwing his head back so hard his neck hurt.

"The fuck do you want!" The Hatter spat out as he steadied his head, as his jaw was let go, Corvo drying off the hand that held him.

"Information about a man in your gang." Corvo spoke with a lower pitch than he would usually, a dangerous tone in his voice, one that was dripping in malice, anger and much else.

"I ain't knowing everyone, you bastard!"

"Bullshit." Corvo muttered, and punched the Hatter again.

"Redhead, sunken eyes. Short, fuzzy beard."

The Hatter, not sure if he wanted his life or to sacrifice his fellow Hatter, sat silent for a moment, as he attempted to snort out the blood flowing into the back of his throat, and sit it at the man before him, with those fucking silly googles.  
Before he could do it though, Corvo grabbed his jaw and forcefully opened the man's mouth, his fist getting higher and higher, slowly. Painfully slow.  
The Hatter yelped, to then proceed to screech. The fist went flying, and mere milliseconds before impact he closed the Hatter's mouth with a loud and painful "clack" despite him fighting back, and fist made contact with exposed teeth, knowing out two of his front teeth, right back into his throat, making the man scream, and get the tooth stuck in his throat.

He coughed violently, and the tooth went flying out of his mouth, the other one as well. Tears filled up in his eyes already, and the man was shaking.

"T-that's Skinny Pethe--!" The stutter was prominent, Corvo not caring at all, he was just listening. Intently too. "Old s-sea dog from Morley--!"

"Proceed." Corvo spat.

"H-he 's a damned theif-. You find 'im 'round t-the Estate D-dis-trict!" The fear developing in the Hatter's voice showed itself all too well on his face now. He realised he wasn't going to get out of this. And that was all too late.

"... You Hatter's break easy. I'll keep that in mind." Corvo commented, more to himself than the other, as he drew his sword, twisting it in his hand for a moment of showing off, or satisfaction, and within a second, even before the Hatter could squirm further and try to inch away in his chair, he was stabbed in the guts.

"Give me more leads." Corvo said, and sat down to the Hatter's level, as he heaved for breath, the man yelping, even that being stuttered as he was overwhelmed by pain, and the realisation that he was going to die. And that the sword was stabbing the very chair he was sitting in.

He was slapped lightly by the other, and his attention went to Corvo again. He kept quiet, glaring at the other.  
The sword flung out from the Hatter, spilling blood over the walls close to him. And thus the Hatter died a violently death, due to a wave of pain. Corvo found himself looking to the door, and as he went out of it, leaving the Hatter there, for the Guard wouldn't care either way, he found that he had a growing smile on his lips. He had a chance now. To find his mask, his new face. To not having to see that face anymore.

 

Corvo stepped back onto the familiar balcony, sheathing his sword after he let it stay out in the rain, to wash it off. He used the usual knock, and entered in. There he found his assassin still in the couch, seeming to be resting, and not asleep. This was deducted by his breathing, a bit too quick. While Corvo wandered inside, a snap of the fingers gained his attention all of suddenly, and he spotted his assassin holding up his arm casually after turning around, to then wave to him.  
... Corvo just... Stared for a while, the smile he had, fading more a moment.

Scoffing more mentally than outwardly, Corvo left to the bathroom. Inside, he found a torn up shirt in the trash bin, and blood on the floor. Though Corvo just went ahead and checked his forehead, patting it down with the sleeve of his shirt. It was oddly clean, but wet, so it felt good against the burning pain.  
Afterwards he came back out, finding his assassin having gotten up, and changed his seats, sitting in the chair by now, sitting as if he was about to sleep. Not thinking for a moment, and just pissed off at his assassin, Corvo went ahead and moved to him, but before he could do anything the assassin lounged out a hand and grabbed Corvo's collar, and pulled him very close, the mask's muzzle bumping into the other's lips.  
... The assassin followed this up with a slow shake of the head. Then pointed, so Corvo could see, to the couch. Telling him to go to sleep.

Corvo only froze for a moment, he could hear the man breathing now. They were calm. Controlled.

Shaking his head as his collar was let go, Corvo patted the side of his assassins mask, and pointed to the couch, pointing as if he was a commanding officer, commanding his solider.

... The assassin looked so done, despite his mask. And he took Corvo's collar again, pulled him down, so close... Placed a hand on his shoulder, all this happening in slow motion in Corvo's mind as the hand felt cold onto his skin, and he was turned around, after his assassin let his collar go again, all in a planned motion. With a solid kick to his back by the assassin once Corvo stood facing the couch, Corvo stumbled towards it, his legs barely keeping up, and luckily he hit the couch before he stumbled in said legs, for the force of the kick was stronger than he would had expected.

The assassin was quick to fish up his book, and started writing, somehow making Corvo stop midway from rushing back to the bastard, to fucking move him himself. Or punch the breath out of him, oh- he was having a hard time deciding.

'Want me in pain? Keep this up...'

Corvo looked to the page, and... Got it now. Especially from how the assassin was settled.  
He stepped back, hating this feeling washing over him, of being defeated. It was unfamiliar, and not pleasant- to the point he stared at the other man before him with such anger, debating on killing him to just end this, and have some satisfaction. These feelings went by the assassin. He didn't care, even if he knew that Corvo was upset, it was easy to see from the clenched fists the man beside the couch had.

Corvo, he... Turned to the couch sharply, and laid down to sleep.

... Neutral about keeping his life after defying orders, the assassin decided he'd best attempt to get some shut eye.

 

It was dark once Corvo stirred back to life. Just as dark as when he first went to sleep...  
Looking around himself, he found that the fireplace was dead, and it had been so for a while too. There were no embers, and the room was growing cold, although Corvo didn't really notice, the blanket over him keeping him nice and warm.  
Nuzzling the pillow for a moment to attempt to wake up properly, a memory in the back of his mind had him sit up, slowly too, making sure the blanket slipped off him.  
He looked to his assassin, the man sitting as he did. He seemed to be deeply asleep, his chest heaving calmly, and sinking again. Not really knowing why, Corvo moved to his assassin, blanket in hand. One, he draped over the other, and tucked it in where it needed to be, supposing his assassin was so deeply asleep- he woul-..  
Corvo was wrong, proved by the hand that gripped his throat, and hard at that. A pause followed, and the grip lightened. The assassin needed a moment to focus, and wake up, for he was torn out from a deep sleep. Something that truly annoyed him. So the hand resting on the armrest beside his arm were punched lightly, Corvo just moving back. Frowning, Corvo simply went ahead and made food.  
His assassin helped after a few minutes, both peeling what they needed, and added it to the pot. 

It felt so casual. And Corvo just noticed it.  
It was almost intimate.

... Was this common practice for the assassin? Did he do this with all of his clients? Inclined to ask, Corvo brought up his book, writing as his assassin took over his task, grabbing the half cut up carrot from his side.

'Is this common for you? Making food, sharing lodgings?'  
The assassin looked up, and held out a hand after just dropping the carrot in the pot. Meant more crunch.

'I am your bodyguard. Always.'  
... Did Corvo offend him? No- he doubted something so trivial would get to him.

They exchanged the book and pencil again.

'Is this your home? From before the plague?'

The assassin shock his head, and then downed a vial of elixir. One he dearly needed.

Corvo just nodded- and watched the assassin stir the stew for a while, not so much made since they were not staying long. Not being able to deny it, Corvo admitted to himself that... He was curious about this man. He wanted to see the face under the mask, a bit more with every drop of blood that left the man's body, for... No ordinary man could take as much punishment as his assassin had in such an short amount of time. The Mark was most certainly a helpful factor in it, but... Only to a point. The fact he was sitting there, silent as the grave.

Starting to wonder about something, Corvo started to look around, even getting up. As he wandered around, his assassin took notice of him, and watched him wander. And looked at the gash on his eyebrow in the light of the fireplace that was now lit.  
He picked up his book, tapped his foot, and got Corvo's attention.

'What happened?' He then pointed to his left supposed eyebrow.

Corvo stopped, heading on over to his assassin, and wrote back to him after being handed the pencil.

'I slipped. I'm okay.'

Nodding, the assassin went back to the food, and Corvo back to looking around.  
He stopped by the fireplace by chance, and ended up crossing his arms. No alcohol. Nothing to clean the wounds with. Nor to dull the pain.

... That was when Corvo took notice of something by his side. The knife from earlier, lying on the floor with a red hand print on it. And the knife had traces of being burnt...  
Memories flowed back into Corvo's mind like a tidal wave. And old burn scars started to hurt, those he had on his arms. Those he refused to let others see. Nobody could see them- not even himself. And suddenly Corvo turned to his assassin, staring at him, with wide eyes, a shocked expression on his face, if one could only see it. He didn't think about the fact that there had been no other choice than to close the wounds like that. Causing more hurt. They didn't have time to wait, he only thought of the pain he must had been in- though of his own, FELT his own pain- like a memory, but still so real. How the fuck was he still conscious? How the fuck was he okay!? Just sitting there, pouring food into their bowls.

Now he ate. Corvo joined him, staring at him cautiously from his seat in the couch.

 

As soon as the food was gone, the assassin took a breather for a moment. Then he was up on his feet, getting a new, red shirt from the hole in the wall, and now stood properly dressed, rolling his shoulders, even the one he knew was injured.  
Corvo had joined him quietly, letting down his hair once he had adjusted the collar on his heavy coat. A hand helped him from behind, Corvo twisting his head around, only to see the assassin finishing up, patting the collar in place. Then he placed himself beside the door, his employer nodding along as while moving, he gestured for them to move out, Corvo the first to jump off the balcony, his assassin moving along with him.  
It felt good to be outside again, the cold air hitting them as they raced across the rooftops. Quite literally, as they were actually gaining and losing distance between each other quite so quickly, but the assassin never going too far from his employer, for he actually had no idea where to go. He simply followed Corvo, whom had actually managed to forget to tell him. 

They soon stood high up on a rooftop overlooking the streets outside of the Boyle Estate. A grand mansion, one Corvo had visited once, and would rather not visit again if he could help it. The fake smiles, the laughter, it all were so fake, forced and utterly disgusting. For each rich idiot's throat he sliced open, gutted and tore apart, he let long dormant feelings out. Some that had him smile, feeling a sense of justice for what he had done. A justice that stuck with him, for a long time, until it all melted away...

... Sighing mentally to rid himself of those thoughts, Corvo looked to his assassin again, the man sitting perched on the edge of the rooftop, with both arms resting on his knees. He took a glance to Corvo once the man signalled for his attention, and Corvo showed the book close to him.

'The Hatter is supposed to be here. Know the layout of the district?'

The assassin quietly scooted closer after taking the book, and wrote, now they could both write by just exchanging the pencil. That was okay, Corvo supposed. Shoulder to shoulder shouldn't matter.

'The district was hit hard, and we lost most of our contacts here. We should wander.'

Taking the book and pencil and stashing it away. Then he waved to his assassin, and the two of them went to street level. The assassin pointed to one way, and begun his wanderings, Corvo actually... As unexpected as it was, started to wander alongside him. Stopping his employer, the assassin pointed to Corvo, then to another direction. Receiving a shake of the head, the assassin stared at the man, and just... Let Corvo wander along with him. 

Although Dunwall was still painted grey, with a cold, yellow hue coming from the streetlights, it luckily wasn't raining tonight. It resulted in it being colder than usual, however and it bothered both man and animal alike. The rats Corvo and his assassin came over were huddled together when they were in small numbers, only watching the two men pass them by as they transversed the alleyways and streets. Passed the old checkpoints, where the dead still laid from Corvo's trip around there, the two men paying them no mind, however. Seeing corpses was a common sight, even now, despite the cleanup efforts of the guard, even as the plague tore through Dunwall, like a reaper through wheat. But with people cured, it would most certainly mean the efforts would be doubled, so soon, maybe Dunwall would stop smelling like blood.  
Most people hoped so, but for the two men, they didn't care. The scent of blood was etched into their minds, and lingered always in their clothes. It was just how it was for the two of them by now- just normal. Nothing to think too hard about.

They reached buildings abandoned, with furniture spread about on the streets. Feeling a bit on the playful side, Corvo jumped over one of the dressers, landing easily on the other side. ... And his assassin followed suit. Hm. Corvo found that a bit... Funny.

Eventually they got to an area with more life, finding that most things that had been spread around was picked up and moved. And the area smelled like shit, so it meant that there was more thugs here than the elite. It was a good sign, Corvo perking up ever so slightly, for hunger was already tearing at him. They had been walking for hours by now, if any of them had a pocket watch, they could check. Maybe they should see if they found one later. Or perhaps see if their target had one if they were to find him, as a thief would most certainly have something like that lying about- unless he sold off everything he picked up quickly. If that was the case... Then Corvo's mask has best to be an exception.

They heard noise and hollering coming from one of the buildings, the place lit with lanterns and what seemed like whale oil tanks, settled around what looked like the front door. Perhaps to invite people in, or to see whoever was running around outside. Creeping to the window, the assassin looked through it, taking in the sights. They stood more in shadow than in the lights, yet it still reflected off the glass on their eyepieces, so it was best to make their observations brief, to not be noticed.

Immediately as he took a glance over all the men he saw inside, some asleep, others sitting around a table, he saw a man alike the target they were going for. Red haired, shallow eyes, and a thin frame. It was hard to tell from his position if he was short of not, as he was lying on one of the madrases, lazing around as it seemed.

Quick to draw back, he let Corvo look instead, and with this... Corvo's heart started to race, and he lifted his elbow, about to break the window in a lapse of clear thought, but his assassin stopped him just as quickly as he lifted said limb. Nearly wanting to bite his head off for doing that, the assassin simply gestured over to the door, and to the whale oil tanks that stood about.  
Then to the door.

... Corvo understood he was trying to explain a plan, and didn't find the patience for it, although he really should have.  
Feeling the blood lust creep to the front of his mind, clouding his eyes and thoughts, Corvo rushed through the front door all of sudden, leaving his assassin to run right after him, annoyed to say the least.  
And there Corvo stood, in front of several men, maybe over 10. Some were still asleep, but were quickly kicked awake by the ones now crowding up.

"What've we got here... 'Em fuckin' killers!" One of the Hatters spat. Word travelled fast in Dunwall, apparently. But Corvo didn't care. He didn't even take notice of his assassin, standing by his side. But he heard when the sword was drawn, and when a bolt went flying into the Hatter's mouth, silencing him before he could continue his shit talking.  
Roaring, the rest of the men ignored their wounded companion and stepped forth to attack, Corvo patting his assassin's good shoulder, and gesturing to the redhead.  
And after this, the fight broke out, the Hatter's oddly enough wanting to fight despite hearing about how their fellow gang members had been slaughtered before. They ganged up on both of them, the redhead even attacking, and stood out sort of like a sore thumb from the other Hatter's due to his height.  
Using nothing but his sword, Corvo stood waiting. Waiting, and as soon as a sword went flying overhead to him, he blocked it and countered it, driving the sword straight through the Hatter's neck. Then he was sliced across the back, but just barely, Corvo understanding that he needed some space, for it was hard to dodge, and not do so onto his assassin, who took things a lot more calmly, planning his strikes. Strikes that were designed to hurt as many as possible, and not leave himself open for more attacks.

But ti proved hard, and suddenly his assassin took a hold of his employer from the back, and tossed him back, helping Corvo to avoid a fatal blow in the process. Pissed off and nearly wanting to rip open his throat, Corvo got a better, more clear look of the scene before him, his assassin disappearing and reappearing in front of him. He was breathing heavily, one could hear it from his mask, as he had mostly dodged blows, and making him twist his body in such a manner that his wounds hurt.  
Corvo stopped time, and with this, his assassin relaxed instantly. With anger overflowing in both of them, they lessened the numbers by 4, and once time resumed, blood splattered everywhere, Corvo and his assassin having made sure it would be as messy as possible.  
The Hatter's remaining yelled for a moment, some of them even throwing up one, which... Was the thief.  
He started to understand now that this was a fight he wasn't winning, and while the rest of the men fought Corvo and his assassin, he started to slip out, managing to do so by being skilled in stealth, and when both of the two murders stood with their backs turned, blocking and countering hits.  
Moving in front of Corvo, the assassin stood before him, like a human shield, for when Corvo was overwhelmed. He used his bolts, shot one in the leg, and relieved him of his head the next second, making the Hatter's more pissed off than they already were.  
And it was now that Corvo realised the redhead was gone.

Angry panic surged through him, and for some odd reason, Corvo didn't scream once he brutally grabbed one Hatter's head from behind his assassin, moving him against him, which had his assassin bump up with his back against Corvo. With his face in his assassin's neck, Corvo let his assassin stab the sword through his side, and out on the other, and tear it out, spilling guts and blood out on the others, who now got a bit terrified. Then Corvo nudged with his nose for the assassin to leave, skin meeting cloth.

The Hatter dropped onto the ground, and the assassin left, looking for traces of the Hatter that had run off, and not being slow about it either. He started to run to where he needed to be, hearing footsteps as he just exited the door. For Redhead was most likely trying to hide, but seeing the whaler come out, he most likely knew he wouldn't escape with his life. He started to run towards the river bank, his small legs carrying him very quickly. The assassin was quick to chase after him, however, his footsteps very loud against the cobble stone.  
And now he let himself make some sounds, grunting as he did his best to keep his energy levels up enough to catch this idiot.

Meanwhile Corvo went as a whirlwind, swinging his sword wildly against everyone. With a frustrated snarl, the last Hatter stepped back, and with a snivelling, scared voice he spoke, asking for mercy.  
Corvo didn't even let him finish, as he gutted him, blood all over his hands and sword. Over his coat as well.  
He missed that faint scent of the assassin all of sudden. Missed him around, as he hacked off the Hatter's head, one by one, those that hadn't already been decapitated. It seemed to be a common thing for them, so why not use it as a trademark.

So Corvo left the building, passing the Whale Oil tanks, and...  
He threw one in, as if it were naught but a pebble. It exploded in a flurry of flames, engulfing and destroying the bodies.  
With blood lust still clouding his mind, Corvo set to run. He needed to wring that redhead's neck.

The assassin had let Redhead go up further in the building he had tried to get away in, even though he knew were he was. He was walking up the stairs, calmly, for he knew all too well that getting this high up would mean death. Having his powers with a man that was quick like a rat, and knew how to hide like one, was a boon to say the least, the assassin knowing where he is, toying with him. Letting him think he was ahead.  
He stepped heavily, the floorboards creaking for every step the assassin took, letting Redhead hear it. Letting the panic settle in him.  
The Redhead started to hastily climb up to the roof, the assassin seeing it, and failing to see the rest of the room, for... Some yellow outlines showed themselves all too quickly to him, and all too suddenly, and in a flash where his powers stopped, he was grabbed, and restrained.  
Meanwhile, Corvo had spotted Redhead out on the balcony that he was climbing from, finding himself rather impressed with the jumping ability of his. But he was small, so no wonder.  
Corvo made short work of the climb, and suddenly sat perched on the rooftops, where he stood face to face with a struggling assassin, HIS struggling assassin, trying to get out of the three Hatter's grip.

Corvo paused for a few seconds, before the assassin noticed him, and turned his head, telling Corvo to go.  
Breathing quickly all of sudden, Corvo blinked away, and set out to run after the Redhead, who was close to the River Bank more than the street as he ran. Maybe it was in case he would fall, then he would have a supposedly softer landing.  
Corvo was quicker than his assassin, and scaled the same jump as him, only all of suddenly, near and close to the edge, River, Corvo's leg's were grabbed from one of the windows he ran past. And he slammed into the roof titles, face first, and it broke his nose to pieces.  
Cutting off the arms of the Hatter that grabbed him, Corvo stumbled back to his feet and ran faster, now getting fed up with this, and stopping time. He caught up to Redhead, positioned himself in front of him as he stood there, and made sure his sword was not facing him.

Then as time resumed, Redhead ran right into Corvo's chest.  
And he screamed so it was heard, even by the assassin, who stood watching the one Hatter's fly off the balcony. Two left. Two that got him a bit too close to the edge all of sudden, having recovered from being knocked down rather quickly, and knocked the assassin over the edge, about to fall. But no, he blinked away, and onto the side, stabbing the man who did that through the neck, and slicing it open.  
The other was dealt with quickly.

Meanwhile, the Redhead was fighting Corvo's grip, and manged to get a sleep dart out before he went unconscious, which he stabbed into Corvo's side, an instant effect, so... It rendered Corvo unconscious, and he stepped more to the side that he should. And it did not help that Redhead pushed him, and sent Corvo tumbling down into the river.  
A huge splash was heard as Redhead ran away, terror in his eyes and covered in blood.

The assassin was quick to follow the blood trail that Corvo had left from his sword and coat, following it for a little while before seeing it end.  
And move towards the edge, going down to the river.  
It had taken him three minutes to get there, and by now, Corvo could be long gone.  
Looking around on the rooftops around him, he found no more blood. Not on street level either.

It just meant...

Hurriedly running back to where the blood stopped, the assassin looked down to the River, seeing blood flow in a certain spot.  
He didn't even hesitate with diving down into the water, expertly making sure he didn't hurt himself in the process. He looked around frantically, finding Corvo underwater, having being taken by the water flow for a few meters. He got to his employer quickly, fishing him up from the water and gasped for air once he finally could. Corvo didn't.

Blinking to the streets, the assassin laid Corvo onto his back, somehow knowing a few tricks to try and revive his employer, despite not remembering where he got them from. Like an instinct, he hit Corvo's chest hard, and once there were no reaction, he did so again. He continued, until he had done so a few times.  
Not even hesitating, he pulled up Corvo's bandanna, and his own mask, only to their noses, a bit relieved Corvo's had a fairly long beard by now, for it hid his features. Giving mouth to mouth was easy, and after a few tries with hititng his chest and mouth to mouth, his employer reacted, starting coughing violently all of sudden onto his Employer, only after opening his eyes, and moving to the side to be able to get out everything a lot better.  
Relieved, the assassin pulled down his mask again, and let his employer recover, Corvo curling up due to feeling sick. He had swallowed water, and he felt it, the foul taste still lingering in his mouth.

Though he didn't lie for long, for his assassin brought Corvo up in his arms, and made him sit, leaving him to it then, and hit Corvo's back a few times, Corvo coughing up more water, making him just feel worse.  
He gestured to his assassin to help him up, and move him to a wall. So the man did, and there Corvo forced himself to throw up, making sure that his stomach was well empty before stopping.  
He was shaking, felt so damned cold, and just... Wanted to sleep. Yet, to fucking kill that Redhead so much. To start running again.

His assassin stood with his back turned, keeping watch.

Turning around, Corvo grabbed the assassin's arm hard, his grip still weak, however.  
He told him to go, go and find the damned Hatter, as he gestured weakly.

The assassin shock his head. And he gestured for them to go back where they came from.  
A weak punch to the assassin's face followed, one that didn't even move him.

Then Corvo insisted. But the assassin refused, and begrudgingly as well, for he clenched his fist.

... Feeling lost, feeling so fucking angry he could just scream, Corvo pushed at his assassin towards home. And went to his side.  
They walked for a street before Corvo stumbled, and his assassin brought Corvo's arm around his shoulder, heaving him up and helping him get back to his apartment.

 

It took them too long to go back, and the blink up there meant that Corvo had to be on his assassin's shoulders, for they had to be quick. Day had arrived over Dunwall by now, and the people had already stirred back to life, guards patrolling a district away too. This place, was void of guards, for there was nothing to guard, nor to find, else but rats and maybe a few corpses. But what value did that have...

Corvo felt relief wash over him, once he started to feel better, but knew damned well that he had to make sure to not overextend himself. He could have water in his lungs that could kill him, after all, so it was best to be careful. And his assassin knew that too.

 

The instant Corvo was put down onto the couch, Corvo laid down, burying his face into the pillow, starting to progress what had happened, for all while walking back home, all he could think about was the Redhead. And how he would kill him. And now that they were out of danger, out of view, Corvo could relax.  
He opened his eyes to see his assassin shrug off his coat, and disappear as he placed it as usual before the fireplace, which he lit using Corvo's trick. He came back through, wet as dog, but settled into his chair, a deep sigh following, that was luckily muffled by his mask. Yet the exhale could be heard.

Corvo took a deep breath, as he remembered what met him once he woke up. In a split second, he had the mask bumping into him on his forehead, and a black beard so close to him, he...

... Shit...  
He took another deep breath as he clenched his fists, closing his eyes, his face warming up, especially as that faint scent became apparent to him. 

Damn it.  
This could never happen again.


	5. Papers In Hand

Nearly barking out of surprise, Corvo was violently knocked out of his comfortable sleep, sitting up quickly in the couch, reaching for his sword, which wasn't there. His breathing was heavy as his neck twisted painfully, the man trying so hard to find his sword. He found it at the feet of the couch, together with the rest of his equipment. It only meant one thing, and while he lifted his head from it's position, a painful thing due to the sudden twist of his neck, he found his assassin, sitting in the chair, his book resting opened on his thigh, with a hand keeping it down.  
He was eyeing Corvo in such a manner he was hard to read, although that was honestly not what Corvo was attempting to do at the moment. The way he had sat up less comfortably by the looks of it, sitting closer to the edge and leaning forth, he was startled. Perhaps as startled as Corvo was. For said man hadn't meant to sleep- no, not at all.

But in one moment he was cursing himself, the other his mind went blank for less than a second and he was gone. Gone to a dreamless sleep, before he could dwell on anything. Work through.

 

His assassin raised up his book, for it appeared that his employer had calmed down. He sat more comfortably back, continuing to read as it seemed. But Corvo hadn't calmed down.  
It made him take a look towards his assassin, who seemed to not mind the intense stare that Corvo had. The man could feel it, the eyes burrowing into him, yet he found no will to care, the mask pointed down to his book, all while he flipped a coin in between his fingers, in a way to ward off boredom for the time he finished the pages.  
Finally able to process what happened, of the things he could remember, Corvo looked down to himself, over his coat, his pants, boots... He felt weak. Drained of all of his powers, even his mind felt sluggish, and this was a very uncomfortable feeling, one he had only felt back at the Flooded District, back when Emily had been taken. Back when he should had struck down ever last pig of the Loyalist's, as soon as he felt the poisons effect. As soon as that headache arrived.  
A pain he felt as he stood with Daud in his mercy, the man's throat in his hand. Beaten and bruised.

Heart racing, Corvo wanted nothing but to get up and do something. Just anything. He couldn't sit in a couch feeling sick all day- it was out of the question. So he reached for his book and pencil, that had apparently been dried up as he slept. He was glad about that, the two different handwriting's still visible. Still there- that was good. He just didn't find anything to say. Eventually, though, after letting the pencil hover for a while over the page, Corvo inhaled sharply and scribbled out the words that fell to him. That he felt he had to say.

Tapping his foot, his assassin visibly looked up.  
'Thank you.'

Raising his head up better, facing Corvo properly, he held out a hand for the book like usual. Corvo gave them.

'A life for a life.'

Corvo nodded... Then... A side of him, one long lost, made him draw a line across his mouth, using the pencil. One that curved into a smile... For he was smiling, under that bandanna.

The assassin's reaction was first of quiet thought, then... He huffed out a laugh, the movement of his chest showing it more than it was heard. It was a short one, but still, the fact that Corvo got that sort of reaction out of a man like him, a former Whaler, cold heated killer with skill only matching Corvo's... It felt surreal, and surprised Corvo too, his expression under his bandanna pleasantly shocked. For that gesture, Corvo found that it actually meant something to him. A sense of kinship, or mutual understanding of something deeper than just a formal relationship- to put words to it.

 

Still a bit baffled, Corvo got to his feet, and decided to try and walk around for a moment or two, just to get his mind of that scene that had just happened before him. He managed well, getting up made him feel better, especially once he started to shrug off his coat, and hung it over the chair near to the fireplace, that was still burning strong. The knife that had laid there was gone, and there were no traces of blood there either. Which meant one thing... His assassin enjoyed having it tidy around him... That explained why he didn't want the Hatter in here.  
Finding himself fascinated with this, Corvo wandered to the balcony. He felt he needed a bath after the dip in the river. The smell of the river water had overwhelmed his nose yesterday, it could be the culprit when it came to the sick feeling he woke up with.  
Though a part of him had his hand hover just over the doorknob, and... He remembered the bathtub. There was no need to stand in the rain or look for somewhere to get clean. 

 

Turning around, he wandered to the hallway, but on the way, he patted his assassin's shoulder, just a friendly pat. At least that's what Corvo told himself. The assassin looked over his shoulder after his employer, finding that it was just a pass-by pat. So he went back to his book, burying his attention into it.  
Wandering inside of the bathroom, the familiar scent that lingered around his assassin was strong, and the bathroom relatively warm as he entered. Glad to have a chance to be enjoying the scent, Corvo took a better look over the bigger bathroom, finding a chair by the sink cabinet, looking like it didn't really belong in the room. And on it was a used towel, traces of blood proved it. And underneath it laid the assassins coat, with the back turned. It seemed like it had been recently cleaned, and it felt damp to the touch as Corvo picked it up. He checked the damages to the coat as he waited for the tub to fill up, burnt leather feeling odd to the touch.

A moment later a knock on the door followed. It was the usual knock, meaning Corvo quickly put the coat down, and opened the door, as he was still dressed.

He was handed a towel as soon as he looked out of the door. Then with it done, his assassin left for the living room again, Corvo watching him go for a second. He retreated back to the bathroom, and slipped into the water once the tub was filled up enough. The towel, it hung beside his assassins, not touching it, however.

Corvo sunk down into said water, head leaning back instantly to let his hair soak. The water was a few degree's too warm, Corvo too comfortable to let it bother him as he ran his fingers through his hair in order to untangle it, blood had that unfortunate habit of clotting, and it showed in Corvo's hair, clumps quickly dissolving in the water. Corvo figured he'd let himself relax, letting his thoughts wander while he warmed himself up.  
They wandered to the last few days, and how much had happened- anything before those days Corvo would rather not remember. All the blood that had been spilled, most that had been most certainly deserved. Some that seeped into the bathwater, mixing in with the bath salts, that unfortunately wasn't the source of the smell in the bathroom. Or the assassin.  
He thought about how much they had been fighting, and how damned good it had felt, and how they had both moved, like clockwork across the cobblestones, as if in a dance. His assassin in the fighting ring, toying with the brute of a man, and slipping up... How he fumed with raw, wild anger after the whale oil explosion, let Corvo check his wounds, trust him..

Did he even have anything to lose? Corvo's thoughts trailed off. His eyes shot up, and he sat more up, arms resting on his knees while he chased the image that came to him out of his head. Instinctively the former Lord Protector cleared his throat, catching himself wondering why.

He dragged another hand through his hair, and dipped his entire head underwater after laying back again. Ruffled his hair, cleaning it in the process. To then, start to get up, the motion of nearly kneading his head helping to clear his mind. He then proceeded to clean off his clothes using the same clothes, the blood luckily leaving the clothing easy. It was a good thing it rained, it didn't let the blood properly soak into it, and it was thinner.  
With clothes wet and heavy over his arm for drying, Corvo watched the now dark red water swirl down into the pipes, making sure there wasn't any clog ups. Why, well- to stall for time. He stood in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, and it was cold until he reached the living room, Corvo not able to deny that he enjoyed the warmth. Perhaps it was due to his heritage, having grown up in Serkonos.

Eventually Corvo slipped out, hurried steps to the door, and swung it open without much problem, making a ruckus in the progress due to the door's disrepair. When he reached the living room, he found his assassin still in the chair, with food on the cooking station, a frying pan with lightly fried carrots and potatoes. He turned to confirm that it was his Employer, and... Was not hesitant with turning away once he confirmed his thoughts. But his eyes followed the other from behind the glass, watching Corvo go to the couch, and drape himself up in the blanket after having hung up his clothing to dry.

He took notice of the many scars Corvo had, found that there were many, if not most from gunshots. He already knew why, having watched Corvo fight for the last few days. He had a pistol, and a crossbow, both weapons finely crafted, yet, he had an affinity for his sword.  
He wondered if Corvo had a death wish. Or some code of honour... And those thoughts had him burn his hand on the edge of the pan, for he lost himself in thought, and he had a lightly shaky hand. He only looked to the burn, feeling Corvo watch him, and he ignored it, after checking for bleeding.

 

And so the night went by as it should for the two of them, eating with their backs turned, before they both got some shut eye. For Corvo, it was not really planned, for his assassin, it was due to pain. The herbs he used to clean his wounds with didn't numb the pain, they only worsened it, creating spasms of pain running through his body, like his blood boiled in his veins, creating drops of sweat that just wouldn't stop, like he had a fever. It was only until the wounds were closed it was like this. After that, it would end. It always did, the assassin had to tell himself, while drenched in sweat.  
A few hours later, the assassin stirred from his sleep, quickly lifting his head from it's place resting on the back of the chair, as if he was startled. He had woken from a nightmare, where he had found himself confused with the dream. He didn't remember what he dreamt about, the concept of it was unfamiliar to him, and it was the third time this last month. It frustrated him, more and more holes appearing in his memories, even when he tried to recall them, as he did by trying to place the nightmare, and many other instances, before he met his employer. By now, saying his amnesia was only for two years was becoming a lie.

Looking at the man in the couch, who laid deeply asleep in the couch, his feet sticking out from the blanket cocoon he had burrowed himself in, the assassin thought back to the few days the two of them had shared. He remembered every detail...

... Rubbing at his face from under his mask, the assassin decided to get up, and check on his employer's clothes. It had been a day by now, ample time for the Redhead to disappear- but it wouldn't really be too hard to find him again, the Isles were small enough for a man with connections as him, even though names eluded him at times, he still remembered where to find them. What to say, how much they wanted in coin too.  
It was only to need them. So time was what he had right now, he thought to himself, as he patted down Corvo's coat, finding it dry. So he removed it, and under it... He found his own coat, dry as well, and warm to the touch. Picking it up, the man quietly put it on, and got dressed as if he was heading out, equipment and all stashed in his many pockets.

Then, to keep his mind off things, he started to train, breathing through his nose to make as little sound as he could. This was more of preference than to avoid waking Corvo, but if one was to ask him later, and he would say it was to let Corvo sleep, for the man needed it. He knew the pain of drowning- the assassin almost died by it himself, according to the men who woke him up. The feeling of it all he could still remember, though, a primal fear that had surged his body with adrenaline, all for naught, however, as the red view before him suddenly went black after that.  
He remembered raising his hand the first moment after he woke up, and saw the shining, glimmering leather glove. And how there was an unfamiliar power surging through him. Giving him _power_ that made him feel powerful. Strong. He clenched his fist, channelling it. Power he still tried to find out more about even now, despite knowing deep within what his powers were, like a second nature to him. He could use them like an instinct, knew what to do, and how to. It felt good.  
It was more important to him than to learn his name. Who he was. And it was still the case...

 

Corvo started to stir after a few hours, the assassin's forehead damp with sweat by the time he heard the rustle from Corvo sitting up. He saw a mess of hair from behind the couch, pausing his train of thought by getting back on his feet, to be ready if his employer wanted something.

Corvo's hair had puffed up while he had slept, and had waves at certain points. Mostly at the tip of his hair, but the waves were not curly at all. Feeling his gaze, Corvo turned his torso and head sharply, catching the man staring at him. The assassin moved after a second, acting an awfully casual about it all, and handed Corvo his clothing by settling them on the back of the couch, the clothing folded neatly.

His Employer disappeared into the hallway, and off to the bathroom. He was not changing while being watched by Daud, no. It left the assassin in the living room, and he took the opportunity to rub at his temples under his mask yet again. And then his eyes, eyebrows furrowed beyond reason, the man would mutter if he hadn't sworn to be silent. But he stood as he always did once his employer got out as he listened to his footsteps, both of them now fully dressed and armed to the teeth. And seeming a lot more confident in moving, Corvo bringing out his book from his pockets.

'We will head for the black market you took me to. We should ask if he happens to know Redhead's fence.'  
The assassin took notice of his employers handwriting, finding it better than before. And his speed had increased as well.

'I am ready.' - Was Corvo's reply, and the man was about to go out, when Corvo stopped again, ending up looking towards his assassin from the side, neck still hurting slightly after waking up from the accidental sleep.

Corvo's eyes rested on his assassin's mask, and found itself trailing down to his neck, looking at the little skin that was exposed, through his googles. His lips thinned, not liking how pale the assassin was, something he could make out even in the very dim lights of the embers in the fireplace, and the beams of light coming from the barred up windows.

The book he had put away was needed again.

'Tell me how you feel.'

'No.' The assassin replied after taking the pencil out of Corvo's hand, and once he was done, he slipped it into his employers pockets-...

And so the assassin gestured to the door. Shutting the book with the one hand he held it with, Corvo nodded, although he had a faint hope that the assassin would answer him better, annoyed at to the flatness of the answer. The two of them headed out on his command, the assassin opening the door for his employer and keeping it open too. An unusual gesture from the man for sure, but one that wasn't questioned or ridiculed by the recipient at all. Though the one doing it questioned himself. But it didn't matter by the end of the day, so the assassin let it go, ending up leading his employer to the black market shop that they had stopped by. It meant leaving to stand outside again and wait, something the assassin didn't really mind today, considering the weather.

Even Corvo had noticed it, stopping on a rooftop to look over the river as they moved along it's shore, his assassin joining him. The sun was tearing through the thinning layer of clouds, leaving beams of sunlight shining down into the water, and some places around the city itself too. It almost seemed like they were staring at a painting, the clouds having so many colours fading into each other, it was, in a sense, incredible. Corvo actually ended up admiring the view, his assassin though, he wasn't sure about. He crossed his arms, but kept his head turned to the river, so maybe. Corvo wouldn't be surprised if his assassin wasn't the type to enjoy scenery though.  
Despite it's it's shit, Dunwall could be beautiful, if given the right circumstances. It was hard to remember sometimes, while traversing the streets and shitholes, but something that was nice to be reminded of occasionally. It was, after all, important to not let such things blind one to what was the truth. A truth that had stopped surprising Corvo, and that was; Dunwall was rotten to the core. The plague, weepers, corruption and gangs... All scourges on the city.  
And standing in Corvo's way, one way or another.

Sighing, a hand patted the assassin's shoulder, and stayed there. It was his good one, and this was something Corvo knew and reminded himself actively about if he were to even get close. Looking to his employer, he was told to move out, and so he did, ending up leaping over rooftops together with him again, until they were close to the black market in question. Changing things up for now, Corvo blinked down to street level, as he knew there were nobody around, his assassin following his example gladly. Again they entered the heavy door, and even though it was early in the morning, the assassin pretty much knew where the former whaler were, now that they stood in the doorway, facing an empty shop. After kicking open the door, of course.  
Corvo turned to his assassin who held the door for him, the man radiating annoyance from the way he was staring around. Without much of a pause the assassin wrapped an arm around his employers shoulders and pulled him into the hallway again, not realising how damned close they were in the progress of it and mentally cursing it afterwards, their masks nearly grazing each other. It put Corvo into a frozen state where he only stared at the assassin, watching him take up his book and write in a very quick speed.

'Might be booby trapped.'

Not truly agreeing, Corvo supposed he'd best let his assassin do his job, and he stepped back towards the wall after the assassin patted his shoulder, ending up leaning against it very casually. His assassin passed him in said hallway and went to the stairs, his steps heavy, and his form perfect as always. He was met with traps indeed, most of them tripwires, that was very easy to step over, and even easier to disarm. But the assassin had little time to waste on disarming them, he only stepped over, careful due to the tremor he had in him. Eventually he got to what seemed to be the door to Andrei's living quarters, the assassin peeping through the keyhole. Indeed, there he was, fast asleep in his bed.

The assassin would groan, but he let something else talk for him. And that was the door, now hanging lopsided inside the room on it's last hinges, the assassin stepping in as Andrei quickly sat up, after a bit of a quiet yelp. Swords stood pointing at each other, Andrei slowly realising what had happened, and gained a very fitting, confused look. He stared at the former Whaler before him, studied him. Quietly.

"What do you want? And who--"

The assassin gestured with a thumb over his shoulder, telling him to go down. Right now. The right now part was understood due to the sword that was still pointed at him, Andrei guessing the two partners must've been out of time. Or something. So, Andrei got to his feet, and pulled on a pair of pants, all while the assassin had moved to stand in the door, looking at the door frame as it seemed. But he was waiting, in a more polite manner than when he entered, letting the other having whatever privacy the assassin could give without leaving. While they wandered down the to workshop, Andrei studied those burn marks on the man before him in the stairs, only guessing it was from whale oil. He wanted to ask, but figured he would get no answers.

The two former whalers joined Corvo, who still stood leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. And once Andrei went to his other door, the Whaler split, leaving Corvo with him. Something a person Corvo would rather not be stuck with, but it seemed he had no other choice. That damned whaler didn't want to talk at all.

"Sooo-" Andrei started, working on putting a kettle of tea to boil on the stove. "You two want something else than destroying his doors and waking a man?" He asked, grumpy and tired.

Corvo nodded, not even finding a speck of care for the others mood. He didn't care about anything in there, in fact, all he wanted was information. It was all he needed too.  
"Are you some of the Hatter's fence?"

Andrei took a moment to think, rubbing at his eye with his palm.

"Yeah- they come by occasionally. Had a guy last night. AND before you say-" He made a sharp turn as he spoke, and held out his hands in a gesture of surrender. "-Anything- I will tell you who. I don't particular care about them, well, not as much as I do for my own life."  
Corvo only waited. His heart racing in his chest again, it had picked up as soon as they got there. As soon as they landed on street level.

"Skinny Pete he said his name was. Had to get it for the records- keep 'em on those who don't read the rules." Pointing to a board of fine wood, there was a note hung up with a crossbow bolt. Corvo didn't even look to it, he kept his gaze fixed at the former whaler.

"... Well- he sold off a lot of things."  
Corvo perked up, and took a step forward. "What did he sell?" He sounded angry, but he was only hopeful. Excited in a sense too.

"Hold on-." Andrei went ahead to get his records, slipping into the very big steel door that was close to the shop itself, where he had items stacked up for sale.

"You know, he said he'd run outta town too. Told me the Hatter's being picked off, by two insane men. Also one Whaler..." The man muttered as he looked around. Corvo said nothing, for if he opened his mouth, a very loud, frustrated scream would be all he could say. And his assassin would hear it, so it was best to keep it in. So he just stood there, his breathing picked up as he waited impatiently for the former whaler to pick up his things.

He took a little while, before his head peered out from the side of the barred window. Long enough for the water to boil, making an annoying sound. One that Corvo stopped by pulling the kettle off the stove. 

"How far back do you want the records?"

Corvo glanced over his shoulder. "Two weeks."

With that said he disappeared again, and he stepped out, this to not seem like he was about to run. He handed Corvo who had moved to the shop itself again the papers, who snagged it out of his hand very quickly. Corvo started to read the papers, every word being burnt into his mind.  
Until perhaps 5 days ago, where he stopped reading after digesting the last few words.

"Skull looking mask, lot's of mechanics on it. Guess the Lord Protector's dead. Sold to an anonymous gentleman; Serkonos, Cullero. Sent with smuggle ship - 3rd of The Month Of Seeds."

That was only 4 days ago. Corvo's breathing picked up, and he slowly looked up. He couldn't just... Kill him. He didn't know. He shouldn't know.

"Skinny Pete's going to Serkonos. Karnaca, to live a better life." Andrei informed Corvo, a smirk on his face. He had seen where Corvo had stopped reading, for the man used a finger to keep himself focused.

Corvo threw the papers to the side and very quickly turned on his heel, and he ran outside, adrenaline and frustration clouding his mind to the point where he wanted to scream, scream to his assassin to get to him right now. But he didn't, and just busted out of the main door, most likely scaring a lesser man than the assassin, who was leaning against the wall, and he turned calmly to Corvo. He could instantly tell that something had happened, and he got off the wall with a solid kick to it. Corvo stood with his arms, as if trying to talk with them. The assassin tried to read them, but didn't manage at all, it was just gibberish for a man who knew sign language.

He took one of Corvo's hands in his own, in order to make him calm down. Corvo did so very quickly, and only stared down at the hand who had his own, and... A slight, faint warmth came to his cheeks for a moment, before he understood why.  
He brought up his book once the assassin let go of his hand, and wrote QUICKLY, trying to be understood.

'Mask. Sold to Serkonos, Cullero. Redhead's in the island too. We have to go!"

The assassin closed the book FOR Corvo, and gestured for them to move out, back towards his home. Only putting away his book, the two men hurried back to the apartment, taking the scenic route across the rooftops to save time. Corvo was faster than usual, and no wonder, considering the good news Corvo Corvo had tucked into his coat pocket.

Once there, they both went in quickly, Corvo mostly just to make sure his assassin would come along, for all he owned, he had on him. The assassin collected some supplies for the trip, food and other things, as well as some coin he had stashed away in the hole in the wall. Also he brought along a elixir bottle of something else than Piero's or Sokolov, Corvo wasn't sure what it was, but it didn't matter. All that did matter was that he was quick, something he luckily was. He brought a satchel over his shoulder, and stepped up to Corvo, who was leaning by the wall. Before Corvo moved, a hand on his chest stopped him, the assassin taking out his book with one hand.

"The coin will be paid as up front due to the trip. 500."

Right...  
Corvo frowned under his mask, and nodded, not wanting to dwell on thinking about this for long. Now was the time for action, so they left the apartment the same way they came, Corvo heading down towards street level, and landed with a heavy thud. His assassin followed Corvo's former example and blinked down, brushing himself off.  
Gesturing towards his assassin, with this they both moved out, slipping into a few buildings and shops, the assassin standing outside in the alleyways to hide as he waited for his employer to come back. He kept an ear out for any sort of screaming or ruckus, so he never strayed too far. And for every building they walked out of, Corvo ended up more an more restless, ending up slipping up as he picked the coin purse off a lone guard in the hallway of the building he was in. It resulted in a sword to the neck, and the guards body hitting the wooden floor with a thud. Faster than he usually was, Corvo was out of the window, and jumped down, using blink to catch his fall, and ended up right in front of his assassin in the back alley, the man just calmly greeting him with a nod.  
They moved out again, now heading for the docks. It was good Corvo usually didn't have to speak to his assassin to get him to follow, it would most certainly had wasted a lot of time. They stopped on the roof of a warehouse, crates and goods stored there for the many merchant ships and other patrons of the place.

'How do we find passage?' Corvo had been used to the comforts of being a member of the Royal Court, so he had little knowledge of how things went.

'We bribe. 200 coin should be enough. 100 each.'

They jumped down again, this time keeping to the docks. It was just to find a ship going to at least somewhere in Serkonos, so it was to go by the dock master of the city next. Not even bothering with reading the sign that said; "Appointment only", the two men entered the offices of the dock master from the back, climbing in through an open window on the second floor. It was right by the offices, so that was good. Corvo carefully brought out his sword, swinging it playfully in his hand for a few moments, and took a glance to his assassin, who didn't follow him.

He made a gesture with his hand, as if mocking someone who talked with it. ... And Corvo got it, leaving his assassin by the window, who by now only sighed, staring after the man. He had mixed feelings about going to Serkonos, but knew all too well that if the coin was there, he went with his employer, no matter the cost, for he found little reason to walk away. Even less when it came to Corvo's affinity for fighting. It was refreshing, and good.

Knocking onto the door just for the courtesy of it and entering without an answer, Corvo stepped into the rather large offices of the dock master, the man in his chair, springing up from it as he saw the other entering.

"What in the Void- did you not read the sign!? You-"

"Shut it." Corvo said, and made the dock master well aware of the sword in his hand.

"Either you give me the information I want, or you die, and I take it."

The man took a step back, heart racing in his chest when the sword glinted in the lights of the ceiling lamp. It was bloodied, the blood dried..

".... Of course. What... Do you want?" The man was alert, but not afraid. It showed on him. This was pretty much due to his job, he dealt with thugs and other dangerous folk on a daily basis.

"Is there a ship that leaves to Serkonos soon?"

"... We're expecting a trading ship- laced with spices and food, but I have not opened my offices yet, so it's hard to say if they've arrived yet..." He spoke as he started to go through some papers in a drawer, placing everyone neatly in a stack on his already very full offices. Corvo stood stationary, unmoving, and only kept his unwavering attention on the dock master. He found himself impatient, but knew if he were to go through the papers, nothing would go faster.

"... Yes- here we are-" Corvo took a step forward, the dock masters eyes shooting up from the papers, and onto the man, stepping back instinctively. "... The Polished Rust-Bucket." The man said, and carefully extended a hand with the paper in it, one paper that was snatched out of his hand. "Crude name- but- it is a fine ship. Grand. You will take notice it."

Without as much as a thank you, Corvo left the offices, leaving the door open behind him. He hurried down the hallway, and went up to his assassin who still stood where he left him, almost wanting to smile. But instead, he handed him the paper, and a second or so later, the assassin turned on his heel and moved out.  
Starting to see a bit of a crowd of workers, sailors and busybodies, Corvo and his assassin entered this pile of people, to move along to the greater parts of the docks. If the ship was grand, it was further out, after all. But eventually, after reaching a point, the assassin stopped Corvo, and handed him the paper again, said man having tucked it into his pockets for safe keeping once he moved. It meant Corvo needed to talk, so he went ahead and left on his own.

It didn't take long before he found the ship, the captain on board of it. So Corvo made himself at home and stepped up to it, passing some sailors who stared at him as if he were a ghost.

The captain's eyes were much more unsure, the large framed woman's lips pursing into an uncertain frown.

"What do you want? Work? We don't have any positions free." She spoke clear as day.

"Passage to Serkonos."

"We don't do charity." She muttered this very quickly, and almost a bit dismissively.

"100 coin, from both me and my associate. And where are you going?"

"Karnaca. Not enough." Her face was dismissive. "And I want to see this associate of yours before I say anything else."

Hrmp. Corvo knew they wouldn't leave quickly, so he went ahead and got his assassin, stepping through the crowds, and found him by some crates, mingling with whalers. Who seemed to not mind him at all, considering his attire. Though some of the burly men eyed the assassin's back with unsure, and suspicious eyes.  
Corvo only needed to show himself, and the assassin stepped up to him once he spotted him, ending up following his employer up to the ship again, and met with the captain, who eyed the assassin up and down, eyes wide. The two of them stood close, meaning there were familiarity between them. Something, that was very unintentional.

"... Hrm. I hope you're not who I think you are." The woman muttered. "Had another one of your kind. Was calm enough. Hope you are too."

When she got no reply from the whaler, she looked to Corvo, guessing he was the talker of the two of them.

"100 coin is fine. Pay up."  
They both paid, the woman keeping all the coin as if it was nothing in her hands, and slipped it in her pockets. "I'll show you to your room... And no- not ROOMS. You're staying out of the way, you got it?"  
Corvo only nodded, the assassin crossed his arms, and moved in such a manner that told her to get on with it. ... Frowning, she waved for both of them to go with her. They went down the few stairs there were, listening as the engine huffed along. It was noisy, like most engines in this area, and both Corvo and his assassin had a faint hope that they would not be too close to said engine room, for obvious reasons.  
But no. They passed through the crew quarters, through the galley, and further back into the hallways of steel and lights. Then to the end of the hallway, and by the pantry, the door stood open, so it was easy to see in.

"Here. Everything you need for sleep is in there. Bathrooms on the other side of the galley, keep scent free. I detest perfume and idiot men who doesn't wash."

Corvo would mutter under his breath, but nodded as a thank you. He actually didn't find an urge to kill this woman, why, he wasn't too sure. Though, watching her go, he took a look into the little room, finding it very small indeed, almost like a closet. But there was enough space for two.

They both eyed each other, heads turned to do so... The assassin stepped inside, and brought out his book, glad they had a hatch they could open if they needed the light. Although he would most certainly go and "loan" one of the lamps in the galley when all were asleep.

'The cot is yours.'  
Corvo sat down onto it, finding it to be old, judging by the signs of wear and tear on it, loose seems and some burnt marks, most likely made by cigars or so. But it was more than good enough to use for sleep. If he stole a blanket or so, it would even be bearable to do so... Or...

Corvo got up, and gestured to his assassin to stay. Something the man blatantly ignored, and followed his employer out, something Corvo oddly enough wasn't annoyed by. But stopped following once he noticed the man heading over to the captain, straying out of earshot, and taking a look around on deck while he waited, ending up looking over the city too.

"When will you set sail?"

The captain looked up from her papers. Which meant she was a legitimate trader- it was odd that she allowed bribes, then...

"An hour or two. Get your supplies quickly, we ain't waiting."  
Seemed like she was used to this business.  
Corvo walked back to where he left his assassin, finding him at the very far end of the ship, standing by the railing, looking out to the city still. Corvo joined him, the assassin letting his employer do so, as he knew his footsteps by now. Well at that.

A friendly pat on the shoulder was all that was needed, and the two men headed to the markets close to the docks, getting their supplies. Blankets, a few pillows, basically everything they would need for their trip. And all but one blanket were stolen, from behind the counter, Bend Time a useful power to have for those situations.  
They were quick, moving through the people with ease, and found themselves back on the ship, with ample time left.

They made themselves comfortable meanwhile, setting up their little closet space. It actually ended up rather cosy, the pillows doing a good job of making it all a bit more comfortable. Food and other things were set in the small corner over the assassin's madras, and they ended up just sitting with a deck of cards. For that was pretty much a must for the trip ahead, something Corvo stole off a guard.

Eventually the ship started moving, the engine roaring as the horn blasted off, announcing their departure.  
Corvo flung open the hatch, securing it with the rod that was attached to it so it would stay up. The sea was close, but not so that the water would splash into the room. Both men ended up watching the last edge of Dunwall disappear, and left the hatch open well into the night. The assassin's book laid open by him on the madras, while Corvo sat above him, not too close, and not too far. They both decided it was dinner time by the time the last card had flown off by the wind, and just ate something simple for tonight, eating up the Jellied Eels the assassin already had with him from home. Back to back they had settled, both quiet as the grave.

The mood in the room were neutral, and bordering on friendly, as the assassin dealt out another round of cards, waging some coin. He had just gotten back with the lamp he told himself he would steal, so that they could continue, the hatch having been closed due to the winds blowing away their cards. There were nothing suspicious between them, and they hadn't written a word to each other either, things were pretty alright. And normal by now too.  
When it was well into the night, the assassin brought up his pocket watch, letting Corvo see the time too. Bedtime, Corvo supposed, and got up, slipping into his cot. The assassin simply spread out on the madras that was right under the cot, and rolled more to the side, back turned to Corvo. It felt odd for him to sleep laying down for once, so the assassin stretched out, just to try and get used to it. For it hurt.  
For Corvo, he had already fallen fast asleep, tired from the day. And he wanted, pretty much, to sleep away the two next weeks. He just wanted to reach Serkonos as soon as possible, and not having to wait. Every bone in his body screamed for it, but it had to take it's time... And he hated it, even teasing him in his dreams, causing some tossing and turning.

 

Waking up the next day, Corvo found his assassin fast asleep under him, laying on his side as he had done yesterday. His breathing were deep and consistent, Corvo even hearing it once he settled on the cot's side, the masks breathing sounding eerie. Once sitting up, his feet nearly ripped the blanket off the man in the madras, as it were that little space, something that Corvo only hoped wouldn't become a problem as he watched for reactions. None.

Corvo couldn't help but to wonder if his assassin was dreaming, as deeply asleep as he was...  
Not wanting to wake the man, Corvo laid back down, stretching to try and wake up properly.

There he laid until his assassin stirred from his deep sleep, shuffling from under his blanket, and arching his back.

In the end the assassin finally sat up, and carefully moved his arms to his shirt, despite knowing that Corvo was awake. He could tell by how Corvo was breathing, his hearing keen, to say the least. The shirt was dropped off in his lap, and the assassin just sat there, breathing for a while. It was enough to get Corvo to sit up, curious what was going on.

His assassin's attention landed on him, head turning to his general direction. Then, he removed his coat off the lamp, letting the lights back into the room, just ending up nodding to Corvo as a good morning. Corvo nodded back, and laid down, supposing the man wasn't in any danger.  
He let his assassin do as he felt he had to, removing his bandages and letting his wounds breathe. To then reach into his satchel of supplies, pulling out that elixir bottle.  
Now Corvo got curious, and turned to his side, hand resting by his nose. He watched his assassin smear what seemed like ointment on first, his shoulder. And the reaction the assassin got out of it had Corvo on his elbows, about to reach out to him to stop him. The man started shaking violently, his head dropping, and the gripped the blanket he was holding very, very hard, to the point veins would show on his hand if he weren't wearing gloves. And despite all of this, he was silent. He only took deep, and quick breaths with his nose.  
He continued with this, Corvo not able to take his eyes off him.

Then he moved on to his back, needing his hurt shoulder. That was when Corvo sat up, his assassin not finding the time to turn to him to ask him what he wanted, and not finding it in him either, until... He sat down behind him, so close to the lamp that it cast a shadow on the assassin's back. He twisted his head back to see the man, who... Patted a part where he wasn't hurt with an open palm again.

... The assassin looked down to the ointment, debating with himself if he should let his employer help him. He could do it himself, but it meant bleeding in his shoulder, and... ...  
He held out an arm to his side, his palm outstretched to the ceiling. Corvo supposed he had to place his in his assassins, and when he did, his wrist was grabbed, as well as his hand. And there were some pressure to it, as if the assassin was warning him. Heeding the warming, Corvo shock his hand a bit, his assassin letting him go then, and held out the bottle.

Since Corvo knew how much he needed to put on from watching him, the man started working on it immediately, and actually took all the places at the same time, being quick as he smeared them too. His fingers ended up lightly red, the little bleeding the assassin still had from those wounds still prominent. All while Corvo did this, his assassin kept breathing, kept himself awake. He even arched at once place, meaning it hurt more than the others, something that actually had Corvo's heart skip a beat. Not out of pity or sadness, no. Something else... That he couldn't quite place.  
But he ignored it, and finished up quickly.

The assassin calmed down eventually. And around the time that Corvo got up, he noticed... That scent.

A very familiar scent. It was from the ointment... Corvo smelled his fingers, finding it very faint, but it was there... And not exactly like he remembered it, but still ...

After wiping off his hand on his shirt, Corvo picked up the assassin's writing supplies, sitting in front of him on the madras.

'Why does the paste smell like that? Is it a special spice?'

The assassin paused, just looking into the book for a solid second or so, before taking the pencil from the other. Maybe he was still in a lot of pain.

'Yes. It has cleaning properties.'

'Is it expensive...?'

'You find it all over Serkonos. Easy to come across.'

Corvo wanted to smile.

'It's a familiar scent to me.' He admitted, the assassin only nodding as a reply... Until he took the pencil from Corvo again, Corvo just finding his own in his coat, leaning back to get it.

'It is for me too.'

'You are from Serkonos?'

'I don't know.' His assassin didn't hesitate with replying.

'There's more holes in your memory, then?'

'Yes. And thank you.' Corvo nodded, ending up smiling a bit as he sat right over the assassin, facing him. They just exchanged the book by now.

A pause followed, the assassin formulating his words.  
'I think I should teach you sign language.'

Corvo looked to him from the book, visibly so, turning his head up.

'You made an attempt yesterday that was just gibberish. Give me a day.'

... Corvo nodded. It would be very helpful, and make it a lot easier to speak for the two of them. And even better, less evidence of speech, which was always good in Corvo's eyes.

So Corvo nodded along, agreeing to it. And so the assassin took his book to himself, and settled down to start setting up a plan.

Corvo went to eat, sitting back to back with the assassin on the madras, but not touching him, however. The scent lingered from the other, made Corvo feel calm. Relaxed, even, thinking back to the bath he had before all this, and rubbed at his face after letting his thoughts wander a bit too far.  
He ate his bread a bit more aggressively, wanting to finish up quickly.

So that they could check out things in the ship. Get to know it, and know where they could eventually train. For oh- no- Corvo was not staying still. And neither was his assassin, if he had the right impression of him.

So they both ate, the silence less comfortable as the engine started to make some more violent noises.


	6. Dancing in Blood

As much as the two men enjoyed the engine's roaring through the walls, they didn't find it in them to stay in the small space they had for themselves where the noise of it only got worse, and had decided to head out. It did help that neither of them were tired, and restless to a point. At first they had tracked along the boring hallways that they had arrived in, taking notice of the lamps lighting up the dark there, especially the assassin. They peered into the pantry too, Corvo more than his assassin, finding that it was well stocked for most of the crew, Corvo guessing the captain had her own stash somewhere close to the Captain's Hut, or in her own cabin. It wouldn't surprise him at all.

 

Looking to his assassin for a moment as he stepped back into the hallway, Corvo was glad that they had stocked up on food beforehand. Starving was never a good feeling, Corvo had known it for 6 long months. Months he didn't want to remember, but had to. It had him seething with rage just thinking about it, his fist clenching, and the man quickly turning from the pantry, heading down the hallway without looking around too much, for there was no need. He entered the galley once he swung open the heavy steel door, finally getting a look around the room. His assassin was at his side, halfly standing in the door, a bit more to the side. He kept close, not trusting the crew, nor the captain, although it was far from visible on him. As well, the assassin found no reason to mention it to his employer either, for it should be a mutual feeling, if he supposed Corvo was used to this. And he was, for he was not too friendly to the man settled at one of the tables, a glass of blood ox milk in his hand, as he eyed the two men cautiously.

Corvo and his assassin wandered the galley, behind the kitchens, and just looked around, the assassin keeping his arms crossed as he wandered with him. He counted the knives that Corvo also took notice of, yes, they made sure to map out the place as best as they could. Know what sort of weapons the men had, and how they could be used.  
Then it was the crew quarters next. This room was completely empty, so it was easy to wander about without things getting awkward, although the two men wouldn't care if it did end up like that at all. They would look around no matter what.  
They found the captains cabin, off to the right of the ship. It was apparent due to the locked door, and the make up stash Corvo saw in the keyhole. He gestured to his assassin that it was a important place, said man only nodding to acknowledge it.  
Exactly as they stepped away from the captains's door, the assassin casually turned to look behind him, seeing the shoulder of the man who was just in the galley disappearing to the room again. The assassin knew all too well that he was there, having heard his heavy footsteps across the steel floor. He took a glance to his employer, who without even hesitating nodded shortly, once.

And with this the assassin drew his sword, twisting it in his hand for the fun of it as it seemed, and stepped casually to the door, Corvo followed right after.  
They entered the room, Corvo entering after his assassin, and stayed in the doorway, that stood wide open. The man had pretended to be getting himself more food, his glass of milk in his hand. He didn't seem nervous at all, not even when glancing at the two men entering. However, when he noticed the sword in the others hand, a bead of sweat appeared on his forehead, hips lips thinning as his expression strained. This man was young, most likely not as experienced as most in his profession yet. Not knowing when to keep his curiosity quenched as well. But that was fine, for a man always had to learn.

The assassin stepped towards the youngling, who took a few steps back, quick to look around for any sort of weapon, for he could all too quickly tell that the masked man in front of him was either out for blood, or to hurt him immensely. So he twisted on his heel to reach for one of the dirty, bloodied knives laying by a fish, but instead of getting one, he yelped with a surprised screech, his throat being grabbed, and he was dragged away with such a force that he stumbled, hitting his head on the wall as he was pressed up against it. He got quiet after this, his heart starting to race in his chest as he stared at the mask before him, and the huge arm that had locked him up against the wall.  
The assassin started to drag him up against the wall, his grip tightening. And there came a deafening silence from the man and the two others, the man not even daring to move. Not even daring to try and fight to get down.

The silence was broken by Corvo's pencil scribbling against the paper in his book, and footsteps approaching the assassin and the crew man. Patting his assassin's upper arm, said man now held the sword against the other's eye, as in a challenge, as if daring the man to try and reach for it in time, and see if he could save himself.  
Corvo held up the book towards the man, who found it hard to read the words through the mess of terrified thoughts he had in his mind.

"Y-yeah- I didn't see s-shit-! I'm quiet!" He stammered, voice high pitched, a primal fear radiating from him. For he was honestly terrified, his mother having raised him on stories of the whalers and their leader, Daud. He wore the red robes. For the man, this was Daud. Hidden behind one of those terrifying masks.

Corvo nodded, and took a glance to his assassin, who did nod to his employer, but didn't let the man go just yet. But the sword was lowered, and put away at least, which failed to soothe the man being held up against the wall. He wanted to cry, but kept it in. He didn't want to be a coward, yet he couldn't help it.  
Though much to his relief, the assassin let him go, having him drop on the flood from the suddenly of it.

The assassin and his employer then left the man there, ending up wandering up to deck. They passed a crew man cleaning the stairs on their way up, the guy staring at them while they passed, for now... He had to clean those steps again. Grumbling, he went back to it, not watching the two men slip out of the open steel door.

Finally arriving up on deck, Corvo and his assassin wandered out to the main parts, ending up looking over the whole deck, making sure to drink in the view. It would most certainly prove to be useful later, for knowing most sailors, Corvo knew they were all a very superstitious, and suspicious bunch. Maybe not the captain, she seemed a bit too pragmatic for it, but the other men.... All seemed like the types.  
Most of the men ignored the two fellow passengers as they passed them, but didn't seem to be opposed to sending them a few glances. Maybe curious, maybe afraid, it was hard to tell from their squinting eyes. For out to sea, for once, it was a fine day, as well as calm seas. The sun stood high in the skies, indicating it was soon midday and time for lunch, something that showed on the crewmen on deck. As well from the absence of the captain, who was most likely in the Captain's Hut.  
Corvo and his assassin didn't pay the much mind, only wandering across the wide deck, passing through and ending at the end of it. Corvo settled on the railing, his assassin standing by his side, his back straight.

Corvo say like this for a good while, just watching the horizon and sea move. It was nothing much to do else from this, honestly, at least until his assassin was fit enough to fight. Corvo would rather avoid ending up in fights with the crewmen, considering how much his fingers were itching to hold his sword, and to drive it through someone's eyes. How he missed needing to tear it out of the skull... He was bored- oh- too bored. And he hated it.

His assassin, however, was calm. Calm as he rolled his pencil in his hand, and went back to working on the schedule and written parts of teaching Corvo sign language. He needed something to do, so he supposed this was a good task as any as the two of them let the hours pass by.

Eventually, the assassin patted his employer's shoulder, and signed a very simple one, that Corvo most certainly already knew.

/Come here./

Corvo nodded, twisted around, and the two went down under deck for the day. For they had spent the entire day, over 5 hours, out on deck, watching the sights. Corvo drowning his thoughts in the sounds of the ship, and the scribbling from his assassin, who wrote quickly, and even drew sometimes, Corvo could tell from the strokes he heard. And how the assassin literally took up his sword, settled down with his back against the railing, and sharpened his pencil with said thing, just dragging the pencil against the sword, for it was that sharp.  
As the assassin had done so, some crewmen finishing up their chores had spotted the bloodstains on the blade, and muttered between them. Being fully aware of it, the assassin ignored it, and just kept on, sitting until he decided it was dinner time.

So now the two sat down in their little closet space, their dinner going down quickly, and Corvo getting his first lesson with sign language.

It took him a few tries, but ever sign that his assassin taught him stuck. Even as the assassin supposed he have had enough, Corvo told him to keep going, trying to guess the sign for that. He got it wrong, but the assassin understood his intentions anyway. And thus the night went on, both the two men ending up in their respective beds into the later hours of the night. Neither of them was tired, but still sleep took at least the assassin, lying on his stomach, with the blanket halfly over him.

Corvo tugged on the blanket, got it free from under his assassin, and lead it up to his neck, making sure the man was properly covered, and all of suddenly, the assassin turned, resting his body on his arm, and stared up to Corvo. At least that was what it felt like, the assassin's body language showing through.

/What/

Needing to rest like that too, Corvo propped himself up. Then, reached out a hand only halfway, pointing out a finger, as if pointing at the man. Then, Corvo wrote a simple; "help u" in the air, luckily the assassin following his movements well enough to understand.  
He then visibly sighed, but nothing was heard, and he taught Corvo the sign for that sentence. Mimicking his assassin's movements, Corvo eventually got it, the assassin just laying down once Corvo showed that he'd learned it. Corvo followed his example, and noticed the assassin had forgotten the blanket again. So he reached down, the assassin's head moving cautiously to look at the hand, but... As Corvo brought the blanket over the other again, said man didn't do anything. In fact, he accepted the gesture, and laid his head down again, ending up moving to lie with his back turned. Corvo did so too, trying to get to sleep. Trying hard, to say the least, and eventually he slipped into a deep slumber, that gripped him hard.

It didn't matter to his assassin though, who glanced to Corvo once he got up, able to tell that he was asleep.  
Fixing his hair and heading outside, the assassin wandered up to deck, some stolen fruit in his hand as he settled up on the captain's hut, much to the captains annoyance, yet... She didn't dare to attempt to chase him off.

Of course she had heard from her man the display the two of them made in the galley yesterday. She knew it all, and would rather not risk any of her crew to these two. She could be their target... And Whaler's did everything in their power to get their coin.

So she was careful- allowing Daud up on her roof. She supposed he was watching the sea, but it was far from the truth, the man was meditating. It was one way to heal, and it was a way he used often, if he found he had the time for it or was allowed to be alone.

So now Daud rested.

 

\------------------------------------------

 

Fiddling with the key in her hand, Emily Kaldwin stood outside of her Lord Protector room, the night not letting it's grip over her city go just yet. This was the first time she had managed to stand before this room herself, and even gotten so close that she had her key with her, ready to unlock the door. The door that still had bloodstains on it, as she had forbidden any sort of servant to come close to this room, or to wash it, wanting the bloodstains there as a reminder of her father, and everything he had done. Despite how wrong it was, Emily still wanted to make sure she didn't forget, for in the back of her mind, despite what even CORVO told her, she still believed what he had done was justified.  
She didn't need people who opposed her getting the throne, which they very likely would had if she knew guards and their ilk right. They would want the Regent back, for sure. But he laid dead in the basement, burned to nothing but ash by Corvo. Together with the Royal Interrogator, and so many guards... Emily was happy about this fact- and she knew this from Corvo telling the clean up crew, Emily of course overhearing it.  
Finally unlocking the door, she grasped the doorknob in her hand, twisting the door open, and now stood with a very familiar looking room. It was dusty, the very dim light emanating from the window revealing it, dust floating in midair after Emily tore open the door. There were dried, bloodied footprints on the floor, all around it, in fact, and more bloodstains around the bed, one of which had apparently been used before, not so dusty as the other things in there. There were a lot of blood, Emily wondering if it was from one person, or from many- she would have to ask after she got Corvo back.  
Stepping over to his closet, she found it untouched, just like everything else but the bed.

... Frustrated, the young girl marched out of the room, not finding anything of interest in the place. She had hoped for a letter, maybe even an audiograph if she were to be so lucky. But nothing. She slammed the door shut behind her, and locked the door, not even caring that it might could've been heard. She wanted to go back to bed anyway, for there was no reason for her to be wake anymore. It was to go back to her duties, back to being told she couldn't just kill people like Corvo did as soon as they proved to be difficult. That it was not what her mother would had wanted.

She knew that. But it was different now. The city was rotten, and there were little hope, so what was the point of trying? Other people would come from the other cities if she ordered them to, so it was fine...

 

Getting a headache from thinking too much about this and what were waiting for her tomorrow, Emily quickly made her way to her chambers, opening the door, and hearing hurried steps come after her. She turned on her heel, and locked the door, well before whoever stepped towards her could get in.

"It's Callista, Emily!" Said woman called through the door. "I have been looking for you...! I am glad you are okay, but please, don't do it again. You had be worried!"

Emily didn't reply, and just slipped back into her big bed, wanting to do nothing with her and her boring lectures at the moment. So she just went to sleep, Callista standing on the other side of the door, a hand resting up against it. She was distraught, worried and in general, tired. There was so little she could do for the grieving Empress- going looking for Corvo would most certainly be a death sentence, if she knew the man right. Which she believed she did, for despite him saving her life before Havelock killed her quietly, she knew from experience that if she opposed him...  
She would have a sword at her neck, grazing the skin. She could still feel it.

And worse of all, when Corvo did this, it was because he agreed.

'I know what I have done, Callista- I know what she is becoming! Know your damn place- and keep this to yourself! She will not be seen as a mad killer, not if I can help it!'

'She is already one, Corvo-! You can't deny it-!'

Then the sword grazed her neck, after a flurry of movements from Corvo. Then a primal fear shot through her, and she lost all her words.

Corvo's eyes were dangerous, bloodthirsty, and extremely emotional. His teeth were clenched hard, the man's breathing heavy- a wild animal. As if he was fighting the will to kill her, or... Realising how far things had gone, which one of them, she didn't know, until weeks later when Corvo left the Tower.She saw him, after she had tended to Emily that night, wandering the halls with his blade drawn, a certain destination set in his mind. Shoulders hunched, tensed beyond reason, as if the man was sick. She would call it running away if she wasn't afraid of him killing her in her sleep for those words. She was so afraid, that in fact, she had never told Emily about the conversation, afraid that it will only make things worse for her, and have Corvo come back and...

She just wanted Emily to forget him- as cruel as it was to expect that out of a little girl, who had lost her mother and father in less than a year. Who had replaced her sadness with anger and bitterness, something that was so deeply rooted in her, she wanted every guard replaced, after murdering them, of course.  
Callista stepped away from the door, feeling a deep sorrow in her heart for Emily. And nothing but contempt for Corvo, the bastard to let this happen.

She returned to the servant quarters, picking up the newspapers that one of the servants had brought in, that the Royal court as not using anymore. From reading the first page, her heart skipped a beat out of the same primal fear she had felt with Corvo's sword on her neck...  
The Hatter's had been mowed down, nearly extinct, due to some unknown murderers. Ultimately a good thing, but the pictures drawn, how the heads had been sliced off with little ease, it... It was Corvo's work. She knew from watching him kill the remaining guards surrounding them.

Her lip quivered, although deep down she had some sense of happiness for this, for killing gangs was always a good thing. But despite this, she still didn't want to praise it. Senseless killing like this was still bad, no matter what man had been killed.

The woman got absolutely no sleep that night, her mind keeping her awake with racing thoughts of it all.

Emily, she slept deeply thought the rest of the night, dried tears painting her face and pillow, something that was so common her servants had to change the pillowcase every day.

 

\------------------------------------------

 

There was something about watching his assassin stand up, shirtless, and with new, red and angry scars panting his back and chest in full view for them both to see, the candlelight almost making the atmosphere feel romantic. Said assassin checked his scars, scratching at them where he knew they had been at their worst, finding no blood as he pulled back his arm, the man able to reach everywhere due to an increased flexibility. The assassin's body language showed nothing at the moment, and the man simply put on his shirt again, buttoning it up absentmindedly while he stood facing the door.

A week or so of rest had done him good. He felt more energetic, and a lot more like himself, and it did help that he wasn't bleeding anymore, and the pain of smearing that lotion over his wounds was nothing but a memory at this point in time. He seemed almost relaxed as well, as his usually tensed shoulders had dropped down, much to Corvo's secret relief.

The thing was, in all this time waiting and allowing his assassin to rest, there had been little fighting for Corvo. Although he had been using his hands for other means than fighting or drawing blood by learning sign language and soon being able to use it fluently, Corvo's hands till were restless. He needed some sort of challenge, some sort of _pain_ , just anything to relieve the urge to fight with, and now that his assassin was well again, it meant... He could challenge him to a duel of some sort. It would have to be consensual, of course, Corvo didn't want a fight to the death, no, not yet. So now in the middle of the night when they were most active, Corvo stood up from the bed, stopping his assassin from leaving out of the door on his own by tapping his shoulder, and leaving a hand there, the assassin turning to look to the hand.

/Fight me./ Corvo asked skilfully, the assassin who looked over his shoulder by now to his employer pausing for a second, before he nodded, a sort of sage nod that indicated that maybe, his assassin had grown restless too? And if so, what did that mean?  
Excitement boiled up in Corvo as he stepped onto the deck together with said man, the place void of crew or captain, most of them asleep by now. At least Corvo hoped so, as well as his assassin.

It was 5 days until they would arrive in Karnaca, if what Corvo overheard the captain blabbering about to her crew was right. And 5 days being able to spend pent up energy, pent up _frustration_ in some sense that had lasted well over a week, Corvo felt he could find himself satisfied after this. Enough to not go and find a brawl as soon as his feet made contact with the docks back in his old home city. A brawl would only waste time, after all, even if it was fun as hell.

But the stance his assassin took by now, how he stood with his sword raised, it had Corvo forget all thoughts about his mask for now, it in fact tore him from his mind so easily he had no idea why.  
Perhaps because he had dreamed of this, in a sense? Dreamed of fighting his assassin, as it was something they hadn't done before, and something that would most likely prove to be very interesting, and also a situation they could use to know each other a bit better. For despite having spoken in sign language all week, they had only been business as usual, his assassin not very talkative as usual, and Corvo not so as well. They were both men of action, that much were clear by now, so action it was.

Corvo was the first to attack, unfolding his sword in a display of masterful skill, spinning it in his hand. Under his bandanna he had an excited smirk painted across his face, the assassin not being able to deny that he felt a tint of excitement about this too.  
His feelings about the last week was simple, he hated the resting. He wanted to do something, to keep his hands busy, for his memory hungry mind always attempted to chase old memories that had been lost to him, that he honestly didn't find it in him to try and get back. For they were no longer relevant.  
In fact, what was relevant for him, was the man lying in the bed over him. The man he shared his meals with, taught sign language, and spent time with, playing cards. He devoted himself to him, an empty shell of a man that would become your blade if you wanted him to be.  
And without much to do, he was a man. He'd rather not be, so now that he stood blocking his employers sword, feeling his muscles tear again as his employer were rebound by the push he delivered back to said man... It felt good, to finally do something of worth, something that took his mind of his memories, and that had him only concentrating on the matter at hand.  
Corvo immediately attacked again, but only having to block the attack that his assassin suddenly delivered towards his lower regions quickly, jumping back to avoid hitting his own hip with his sword. It would had been with the dull side of the blade, but that didn't matter. His feet scrambled as he landed, giving his assassin ample time to get in an attack, an opportunity he took all too quickly, Corvo not even able to react once the assassin moved in a blink of an eye, and appearing before him, a punch following to his employers chest, making him stumble back even more, and nearly falling, only to be stopped by a hand on his waist, pulling him up. And right into the assassin's personal space, immediately letting Corvo go once he had gained back his footing. Corvo stepped back, finding it odd that he was unable to move for a second or two, however, within the blink of an eye he was back to fighting, their swords clashing together in a flurry of movements, both of them not even caring to be quiet, as heavy steps and light ones danced around each other. Corvo could even swear he saw sparks fly from the clashing or their swords, but didn't let it bother him.  
It was on time that they got around to try out their skills on each other. It was something that they had both wanted, it was all too evident from how they were fighting. None of them held back as they moved around each other, not so synchronised as they had been while fighting others, but much more erratic, not giving the other a single break, nor any sort of breathing space. The assassin didn't let up when it came to not giving Corvo much space to work with, as he knew by now that said man enjoyed the close fighting, judging by the use of only his sword. He stepped in whenever Corvo dodged or moved away, heavy steps making sure he knew he was coming.  
As Corvo swung his sword towards the assassin, even stabbed at him, they ended up locked in a sword fight, both fighting for the dominance of it, and Corvo won, pushing back the assassin. Now it was his turn to mercilessly move against him, only hoping that he answered back as he wanted him to. And indeed, he did, attempting to push Corvo back, even using a bit of an dirty trick, throwing Corvo off balance once he had his eyes set on his assassin's mask, and didn't mind his footing.  
Just mere pentameters away from his throat the assassin swung his blade, the way he did so was so calculated and planned, Corvo's heart rate picked up, the man more excited than he could even admit to himself, as he moved towards the sword while getting back to his feet, having been knocked on a knee by the assassin.  
A grin crept up to his lips, and Corvo intensified his attacks, as a manner of attempting to throw his assassin off balance. Something he managed, and a simple counter had him stumbling back, Corvo returning the calculated swing towards the throat as his assassin was knocked down to his knees, and now, Corvo pushed at the man's chest, throwing him back and doing so so hard that the assassin ended up on the deck with his back to it, getting just a fraction of a second pause, before Corvo straddled him, both legs on his assassins side, and the sword pushed against his throat, Corvo leaning over, and face terribly close to his assassin's whaler mask snout.

The assassin's blade followed Corvo's example, oh, he was not beaten. Within a moment Corvo felt the steel against his chin, almost as if he was resting it on said blade, without any injury, and they had reached a stalemate, Corvo in a sense cursing himself for letting him suddenly do this.  
He could hear his assassin breathe, both of them heard it, for they had gotten winded from this. From the struggle up on the deck, that took them all over. And they stayed in this stalemate for a while, until they both heard a very clear "uh...?" coming from the side of the captains hut.

A man stood there, most likely one of the crew, with a cigar in his hand. He looked confused, shocked, and to a point, disgusted.  
Corvo knew that face. And the initial excitement he had felt were replaced with anger in a second, Corvo moving his sword from his assassin's throat, and got off him, staring at the man all the while. The assassin watched Corvo, and got up quietly, both the men's body language telling that something would happen. Something horrible. And the man could read that. But for a moment, he was struck with fear, a shaky hand reaching for his sword, in order to defend himself, the cigar falling onto the floor. And just as it did, the assassin and his employer stormed the man, Corvo for a whole other reason than his assassin, and the two of them mercilessly attacked the crew man, who defended himself just barely for a few moments, for the way Corvo was circling him, the way the assassin kept his attention to him, and _toyed_ with him, not even touching him so far. But eventually when Corvo found an opening from the man's manic twisting around to stop him, Corvo drove his sword through the man's chest, the assassin finally placing a hand on him, and pushed him against the sword, against Corvo, driving it deeper into it. And now the sword stuck out of the man, his eyes wide with fear and shock, and pain. Then a hand gripped his head, and he felt a foot on his back, and he was pushed off the sword, leaving him gasping in pure fear and pain, still alive, for the sword had only pierced his lungs, but he could still scream. But as his eyes went up to look at the whaler before him, the man screamed, seeing a sword come towards him...  
And in a quick slice that took nearly no effort, the man was beheaded, the head hanging from the assassin's grip on his hair. The body fell to the deck with a thud, Corvo's initial anger about this all fading, especially when the assassin turned on his heel, and threw the head overboard as if it was nothing but trash, feeding the whales in doing so. Then, he heaved the body, and threw it overboard too, both men watching it fall with a solid splash.

Now they looked to each other, for a solid moment. Corvo's will to fight was far from quenched from this, but, he sheathed his sword, and put it back at his hip. The assassin did so too, and was able to tell that now his employer wanted a fist fight. A more personal fight.  
And he was more than happy to oblige. Standing ready, Corvo gave no pause as he moved from the pool of blood, leaving bloody footsteps on the deck as they clashed together, fists flying wildly in the air, sometimes making contact, sometimes not, for they moved around the deck like well coordinated dancers. Corvo let one fist fly, and his assassin countered it, stepping in and slightly to the side, having Corvo twist his body in order to try and punch him, doing so with a punch to his side, the assassin not realising this, so he was hit. But as if it was nothing he moved along, ending up facing Corvo's back, who moved down, managing to block the fist coming at him, and hit his assassin's leg, who managed to stay balance despite it, and now took a hold of Corvo's arm, throwing him aside, and stepped in an awfully close, getting a solid punch in on Corvo's face, although he was not aiming for it. Oh- Corvo needed that. He stood touching his nose, cracking it back it place as it seemed, underneath that bandanna a smirk was growing.  
With this Corvo blinked in front of his assassin, and socked him right back to the face, the man stumbling back as he did so, and with this, Corvo moved in, and bought an arm around the man's waist, keeping him steady and to his feet, as well as he pulled him close.  
As if on cue, the assassin brought an arm around Corvo's waist, both pushing each other in, and then, headbutted each other, Corvo laughing more mentally than outwardly, for it was exactly what he wanted out of that pose. His assassin was the one more posed, and he moved up towards the still sort of stunned Corvo, and pushed him to the point where he lost his footing, only stumbling while holding his arms around his assassin's wrists as he was pushed up against some crates, and fell back towards them, the assassin's hands leaving his chest and hovering over him instead, Corvo frozen for a second as he was pinned down, before he reached for his sword, and swung it while bringing it up, the assassin jumping back to dodge it, releasing Corvo from the lock.

If he hadn't had his hood on, the redness that had developed over Corvo's face, even extending out to his ears would had been known to both, most likely, for Corvo saw himself in his assassin's eyepieces when they got close enough. But that was hidden, and luckily so, as their swords flung at each other, meeting with a solid clang that rung through their ears. And they stood there, attempting to overpower the other, Corvo managing, and had his assassin stumble back, and with that, Corvo pushed at him using his foot, making him stumble back more, only nearly having him lose his balance. Corvo was relentless and continued that assault, pushing at his assassin until he stood pinned against the wall of the stairs, and held the sword up to his neck again, both breathing heavily, as they stared each other down, Corvo trying to find the eyes behind the eyepieces, but failed due to the very dim light over them.  
He wanted to see them. Just them, for now. It would be enough.

But he didn't get to, for while he was distracted with that, the assassin socked him in the head with the end of his sword, a knock that was enough to make Corvo drop his sword, as it hurt so bad in a familiar way.  
The sword went clanking against the deck, and another one followed. A mere second later two hands gripped Corvo's shirt, and they both started to wrestle for who were to pin who against the wall, stepping across the deck as they spent raw strength, both having a hard time, and hearing their harsh breathing.  
But Corvo overpowered his assassin, socked him in the face again, and with that, threw the man onto the ground, quick to get on him, and pin him down again, this time holding up his arms with a strong hand, the other keeping him steady over his assassin, as he made sure to keep him down.  
Despite the assassin trying to knee Corvo's back as it was all he could do as the moment, said employer didn't let it bother him. And after some very harsh struggling, the assassin relaxed, understanding he had been beaten, just ending up nudging up towards his hands, telling his employer to let him go.  
Not too sure if he wanted to, Corvo still ended up doing so, his breathing still not having calmed down. Corvo, didn't move though, and only when the assassin sat up, hands on Corvo's chest did he move, but not by his own accord until he stepped off his assassin, and held out a hand to him to help him up.  
Said man took the hand and stood back to his feet, rubbing at the back of his head and finding a few drops of blood. But on further inspection, it seemed it was the crew man's blood, which had been pretty much smeared all over the deck, even a few hand prints on the crate that they had fought up to.

Corvo shock his head once the assassin looked to him, not really caring much for what the crew and their captain would think, as he took a deep inhale, exhaling as his assassin left his side. He started to stretch while against the railing, something that Corvo joined him in doing, to not wake up stiff as a board tomorrow. For despite the sun barely showing at the horizon, it was still bedtime for them both.  
So they left to head down under deck, sneaking past the sleeping crew men, some which were awake, though, but pretended to sleep, for they had heard the scream. And the blood they saw on the two men, they knew it was from their fellow crew mate...  
The boss was right to be wary of them...

 

Back to their little closet space, the assassin first washed himself off, shrugged off his coat and collected their supplies. He then went to the galley, leaving Corvo to cook up some good dinner.

The poor man left in the little closet space rested against the wall, peeling off his coat, trying to cool down from the fight. He was warm, still itching for more pain, more fighting, but knew very well that continuing would knock them both out for too long of a while. It wouldn't be good, and leave Corvo more frustrated than he already was, leaving him more restless too.

All he wanted to do at the moment was to go and fight his assassin more. Have him lie, bloodied and bruised under him, so that he could see it too. Maybe even peel off that mask, see his pained expression, see who it was, the man who had been such a challenge, Corvo even wondered if he could be beaten. If he would fail.  
Pulling his knees up to his chest, Corvo laid his head on them, sighing deeply, and heard a subtle crack coming from his neck from the awkward position. But he didn't care, and kept sitting like that, managing to cool down eventually. It wasn't that he had _problems_ , he was just hot, and frustrated with the lack of moving. At least that is what he wanted to believe- for his frustration was relieved while he fought his assassin, even when he was nearly overpowered.

Corvo drowned his thoughts down with some pear soda, glad he stole it from the galley earlier that day, for the sweet taste of it was refreshing, and helped to cool him down further.  
He relaxed, and in a few minutes his assassin returned, two bowls in each hand after he had opened the door with his boots. Corvo wolfed down his food, the assassin eating a lot more calmer, due to the abuse his stomach had endured. They both enjoyed their food, back to back as always, Corvo ending up leaning back, resting against his assassin after he was done eating, said man not protesting it, and simply eating.

But he did move once he was done, Corvo ending up falling back when he got up, and luckily he had put on his bandanna again, so he was covered... He spotted his assassin looking down to him, clearly perplexed from how his shoulders had dropped, and Corvo just... Quietly chuckled, chest heaving up as he huffed out a laugh too.  
He didn't even stop when his assassin leaned down and took the bowl from him, and with that, he left Corvo again, said man only ending up settling to his side, curling up to the assassin's bed sheets, his scent lingering on it. Not even caring when his assassin returned, the man just stood there, waiting for a moment, before he visibly sighed, and took Corvo's bed instead, when it was clear that Corvo didn't want to move.

Corvo fell asleep quickly that morning, and fell into a deep, dreamless slumber. And while he slept, his assassin, as sleepy as he was, still managed to get the blanket out from under his employer, and pull it over him, despite him maybe not needing it. He laid awake for a little moment, the feeling he had after this highly satisfying to the man, who stretched more to see if it tired him out. He was still hot too, to the point he was sweaty yet, apparently having enjoyed the fight a lot more than he thought he would. He wanted more fighting, like Corvo, supposing he'd ask later. But eventually the man fell to the allure of sleep too, or rather, it dragged him into it, and he slept quietly and deeply.

 

\------------------------------------------

With the warm, gentle sun of dawn illuminating them from the sea to the east, the two men stood bloodied and bruised against the each other, swords locked in a battle of power, with perhaps no end in sight. The coats had long been discarded, in the middle of the fight, so a few bloodstains had managed to stain them, but little did it matter.  
Corvo was positively panting, and his assassin faring no better, as both stood testing and playing with the other, sometimes giving in, and sometimes not. But eventually, the assassin knocked Corvo's sword out of his hand with one foul move, Corvo ending up frowning as he watched it fly, and land on the deck with a loud clank, steel against steel. He knew his assassin would even out the odds, and indeed he did, dropping the sword and letting it slide across the wet deck, the rain only now letting up, and the clouds allowing dawn to shrine through. Fists were raised and flew in speeds few but these two could do, and they threw each other around in order to gain the advantage, both knowing exactly how to move and do things to not flip the scales too quickly. To let the fight last as long as they could let it.  
But this morning it was a little different, due to the two having been more cocky, and actually left a few cuts along their bodies, so more stood on the line today.  
Corvo had won up until now, his assassin gaining more and more pent up frustration due to this, and Corvo knew it. He could tell, for every time he used more dirty tricks, and didn't even let Corvo stay on his feet once, leaving him open for a knee in the face. But so cruel the man wasn't, so Corvo escaped only with a dent or two in his pride.  
Soon they were back in a dance of movements, this time it being a lot more sensual, as they moved their bodies along with each other, dodging and throwing punches here and there, and even kicking too. Attacks felt like moving in to bite, that would leave them both stunned for a while, which was never a good thing, so they made sure to keep up their movements, Corvo actually ending up placing a harmless hand on his assassin's side, moving him along with him for a slight moment, before letting him go before he could do much damage. But to his surprise, he was pulled right back in, the assassin doing the exact same to him, but he didn't let him go.  
His assassin moved Corvo without him really realising it towards the wall again, a bit of a bloody hand print on it from earlier when they used their swords. Corvo hit his back against it first, then his head, and saw a fist lying at his face before he could react, but it steered away, and instead the hand grabbed Corvo's collar, and lifted up him against the wall, the whaler staring up into Corvo's eyes, oh, he could _feel_  the stare.  
Smirking under his bandanna, Corvo kneed the assassin in the stomach, not to the point it would severely hurt, just let him go. But he oddly enough didn't do so, and once Corvo was lifted from the wall, and angled towards the deck, he knew exactly what was coming, and braced himself for it, but... He was put down more normally than he had expected. Not too sure about this, Corvo was right to feel that way, for in a blink of an eye his feet were lost under him, his assassin kicking him off his feet, and Corvo fell, more mildly than he would had done so if his assassin threw him. He nearly gasped from the surprise, and even more so once he found his assassin move over him, and ending up like Corvo had so many times, pinning him down, a hand keeping his arms together after some struggling, and keeping him down.  
By now they had been fighting for hours, so understandable, both were tired beyond reason.

Mouth open due to needing air, Corvo just accepted defeat, and nodded. He was too winded, too tired to continue to struggle anyway.  
Waiting until Corvo was properly relaxed, the assassin finally let his arms go, and got up, holding out a hand for Corvo to take, which he gladly did, ending up close to his assassin as he got to his feet.  
He found the man looking to the sea, and Corvo's attention went over to it as well, seeing the warm light of dawn, now shining more strongly towards them. It was actually really damn beautiful, and following the clouds to the south, Corvo saw what they had been travelling to for two weeks, very close, most likely a reason to why they hadn't seen it. Serkonos. It was not far now, just a few hours at most.

Corvo's already quick heart nearly hurt as he realised what it meant, and he got a wide smile on his face, the smile most likely due to how damned satisfied he was feeling, considering the fight.  
Finally they would arrive.

Side by side the two men wandered to the front of the deck, the workers there cautious of them as always, and allowed them their space, as they both sat down on the railing together, watching Serkonos come closer and closer, the island bathed in the glow of the sun. Just like Corvo remembered it...  
It was a great feeling, it being too long since he had properly visited.  
He couldn't help but to look towards his assassin after a moment, and wonder what his thoughts were of this. If he remembered something. He could maybe ask later, if they had time, for now he just let his eyes linger for a moment on him, before looking back to the island.

For now, it was to enjoy the last hours of the trip, as they entered the canal, finally leading them to Karnaca.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohohoho-.
> 
> Hello by the way! Thank you everyone for the kudos and comments so far, I hope you'll continue to like the story and where it is going! c: 
> 
> Also have you noticed I love writing fights? >u > it's so much fun, especially between our two brawlers <3<3 More of that will come!


	7. Breathless For A Moment

With the two's very few belongings in a bag over his shoulder, the assassin stood at the side of his employer, who was still settled at the railing, watching the ship dock.  
Both were ready to go, ready to leave this wretched ship. Apparently leaving the captain and the crew alive.

Something the assassin had questioned, but only to himself, questioning his employer would most certainly prove to lessen the trust they had built up, a more fundamental trust than just the two of them just trusting each other not to kill the other while they slept.  
That was simply an unwritten rule with relations like these. One that the assassin had expected to last, and not to develop into trust on another level, but here they were, one could almost consider them associates by now.  
It didn't matter, though. After this, it would not be hard to leave. A man with no past, they never would have much problems leaving. They have nothing to latch their hearts onto, and they make nothing to latch onto either- if one has their smarts at the right place. At least, that was how the assassin saw it.

For Corvo, he just knew that his mask were _so_  close. And as soon as the docks came close, close enough to perhaps touch, Corvo lifted up his left hand, unaware of the crowd that were watching the ship arrive, for his attention were solely fixed on the place he wanted to land.  
But he before he could go, his assassin grabbed his left hand, stopping Corvo from blinking down onto the ground, as Corvo grabbed his hand instead out of surprise. And the grip was hard, hard enough to hurt, yet the assassin didn't even flinch, and in fact squeezed back to make him stop. He pointed to the crowd with a thumb, and Corvo understood now what he meant as he had turned sharply around to see who the hell did that. So he the grip slowly lessened, and he let his assassin's hand go, the two practically holding hands for a few seconds.

With this, Corvo jumped up onto the railing, and casually wandered along it to the side, sitting down like a perching raven on top of it, as he waited for the ship to get close enough to the docks. And to Corvo's surprise, his assassin climbed to his side, and settled at his employers side, more normally than anything else, though. A worker wandered behind them, and man, it was very tempting to push them, one could see from the way he was eyeing them. Obviously he didn't, and hurried to pass them by, feeling a bit too unsure to even stay close to them, considering he thought they would most likely twist around and kill him if he stayed too long.  
Waking up to blood painting the deck daily, it did create fear in the crew, as well as their captain. Fear of being killed, and fear if one more of the crew had been killed. But oddly enough, there was no more men missing during the trip there, and they... Were all still alive. It was odd, as the captain had muttered about to them earlier; She expected them all to be slaughtered by the time they reached the canal. Yet, they still drew breath.

They were oddly grateful, all of them. For the sheer endurance a man had to have to beat each other up almost daily had to prove something else about them too. Something rather horrible.

And the crew were even more grateful when the ship bumped into the docks, and they had finally reached land, and the two men jumped off without a single pause, landing skilfully onto the docks. Some men from the crew made sure to confirm it was them, and the weight on their shoulders lessened instantly, glad to be rid of these two.

Corvo instantly started walking once his assassin joined him, the man almost feeling like running. But it wouldn't do much good than to save him a few seconds at most, and it could gain the attention of the guard, which, were standing among the crowd of dock workers, traders, all busy with their own things to even take notice of the whaler that stepped among them, together with Corvo. Not even the guard, as the assassin wandered past him, took notice, or perhaps, didn't care. And nobody recognised Corvo. It was impossible, the man thought to himself. Not with the googles and the bandanna. Perhaps the old Duke would, but he doubted it. It was not a man he had any plans of visiting.

Reminding himself of the different roads they could take, Corvo mused as he stopped at a wall, leaning towards it. He could not trust his assassin to help him get passage to Cullero, so he started to try and remind himself how to do things here, back in his home country, how how the people worked here. And his first instinct was to find a black market, if they still were a thing, which were highly likely, considering how most of the workers walking around seemed to have fine clothes, their work not having weathered them too badly on the surface, at least. And looking to his assassin, standing with his back turned, keeping watch... He could gain access to those shops easier. For he had seen a few wanted posters for Daud as he wandered by, people knew the whalers, even here in Karnaca, where they hadn't operated, as far as Corvo knew. They knew the mask too, for the illustration was of him masked. Frankly, a fact Corvo found himself happy about that fact, not wanting to remind himself of the mans face. For all he could remember of him, was the pained, yet angry look he flashed him- once... Corvo chased the thoughts away.

It could prove to be an annoying problem, Corvo thought to himself as he watched the assassin's back, accessed the sewing work he had done to it, all of sudden, as he hadn't noticed it before. He had watched him sew, yes, but not yet seen the finished work, due to the warmth of Serkonos. They could end up in more fights than necessary because of said coat and his assassins mask, so... Perhaps it was best to hurry out of the city- as soon as they could. But for now, it was about finding their bearings, and figuring out how to move along the country. A mountain stood in their way, as an example, as far as Corvo knew, he didn't really consider leaving the city before he was gifted away, so any knowledge he might have overheard about travel, went over his head. And as a kid, you don't think much about travel, things like that were for the rich kinds of people, and not some street kid trying to make do with what he had. Although they were not struggling, per say, it still had been tough in his childhood.

Sighing, Corvo pushed away the fish hanging before him, and slipped through more, his assassin following after rather quickly to avoid being slapped by any of the hanging fish. It was better to talk where they wouldn't get much attention, so hidden behind a few wares, just an outline of them, would prove to be better to hide their method of speaking with.  
Turning to his assassin, Corvo gained his attention quickly, the man most likely aware that he wanted to talk.

/We need passage to Cullero. I'm thinking we find a black market, and perhaps some fence as well, to stock up on ammunition, and other things we need./ Corvo's hands moved slow for now, the assassin supposing his speed would pick up eventually, as he crossed his arms, reading.  
Simply nodding as an answer, the assassin gestured for Corvo to lead the way, something said man simply stood staring at him for, for a few solid seconds.

/Split up, and meet me here in 3 hours;/ Corvo said firmly, hands moving just as firm.

Without a single pause, the assassin visibly sighed.  
/I am a bodyguard as much as an assassin. Splitting up will be dismissing me./

 

 _Oh_. Corvo hands dropped. And for a moment, he started to wonder, that if he was so dedicated to his purpose with this, then...

Why did he fight him, so many times during the trip here? And did he hold back? If so, Corvo quickly realised, that his assassin, oh, he was much more interesting than he originally thought. And dangerous as well, which only cemented certain thoughts Corvo had about all this.  
He wasn't going to let this man go after this, that had been the plan all along, in fact. Despite his help, he was still a whaler. Despite his memory loss, he was a _whaler._  This was all his fault, somehow. Just having ties to Daud, was all that was needed to deserve death.

... Despite Daud's fate...

 

Having idled a few seconds too much, Corvo waved to his assassin to follow him, looking over towards the marketplace that they stood by, and assessing the road ahead for them. He quickly figured that taking to the rooftops would be best, also to gain vantage over the little part of the city they were in. Moving up through it would prove to be even more useful, and especially around his old playgrounds, for he knew that place better than most around there. But would he need to...?  
Time was short, relatively so. In short of it all, Corvo figured nostalgia could wait until he had his mask secured. For now, it was for them to get to where they should be.

His assassin stood by his side, and followed at soon as Corvo started moving. He climbed up together with him, blinking as he had to, and jumping over the rooftops together with his employer. It was like usual, easily said, no more injuries, or whatever else had been delaying them. And it honestly showed on the man beside Corvo, as he watched him leap with a renewed vigour and in a rather playful manner, taking some extra, not too necessary steps as he launched himself. Maybe he didn't even remember his age, Corvo thought to himself.  
As they moved along, Corvo actually found the energised, sort of showing off that his assassin was doing sort of infectious, and like a challenge. So eventually, Corvo started to attempt to figure out his patterns, but didn't' really find any, so he would just have to try out his own moves, in order to see if the assassin would take notice. And if Corvo knew him, he most certainly would.

And it was true, Corvo felt his eyes on him as he did a few tricks, twisting around some furniture stationed on the roof, and jumping over the table, to then land on the edge of it. His assassin passed him while Corvo tried to brace himself to not misstep, and he felt a solid pat on his shoulder, before the assassin casually blinked over the edge, and gripped along a balcony, hanging off the metal railing. And he stared directly towards Corvo, holding out a hand, and gesturing with what Corvo imagined was a shit eating grin under that mask, to go ahead, and join him. It meant only one thing, and Corvo found himself with a grin of his own, as he blinked towards the railing, jumping just a tad further than his assassin.

Hanging together at the railing now, and it nearly giving out their positions due to the rattling it made, the assassin held up a hand. He gestured first with his hand a "no", then pointed to the hand he was holding himself up with. Corvo nodded. Then his assassin held up his hand again, three fingers up.

Three.

Two.

 _One_.

When the last finger went down, without a second thought, Corvo leaped almost at the same time as his assassin, to get up to the railing. He managed well, for his assassin switched his approach quickly, swinging himself up to the railing, and grabbing a hold of what he needed to get up. But by that time, Corvo was already struggling to find a grip that could take him further up the wall, and towards the balcony on the third floor. It would be a challenging climb, for the buildings in Karnaca often didn't have the greatest walls to climb on, most smoother than the bricks one would usually find in Dunwall.  
Grunting, He found his assassin at his side, figuring a way to get to the other side of the building instead of going where Corvo were, said man looking wondering after him for a few too many moments, before he managed to figure out a way to get up. From there it wasn't such a challenging climb, it was just to get the right grip, just at the tip of his boots... And when he finally did, Corvo flung himself up, twisting his body and managing to get a grip onto the rooftop, dragging himself up on it. And to his excited joy, he was alone for now, not seeing a hand fly up to get a grip onto the edge before he was up on the roof. Only a second later, the assassin's hand was visible, and he dragged himself up, the leather of his glove almost looking like it was straining.

Corvo went over to the man, and without a single pause to think about it, he reached a hand for his assassin, who... Oddly enough took it, Corvo only realising what he did once he helped his assassin up, not letting go of the man's hand before he stood with both feet well planted onto the roof tiles.

A pat on Corvo's arm followed, and Corvo stood left in the dust for a moment, as he got a bit slow due to thinking about what he just did.

That damned--...

Corvo started running, quickly gaining speed, and not even caring that he would regret it later. The extra seconds the assassin got, oh, Corvo was winning those back, and that quickly too. It seemed, as they ran across the rooftops, leaping and jumping like madmen, Corvo chasing his assassin, said man was leading them in a circle, most likely to not lose track of where they were at first. Slipping past his assassin by skilfully twisting around him, the man had a bit of a pause due to getting his bearings. Which gave Corvo a very good chance to win, now that it wasn't so far until the "finishing line". And the longer he ran, the better it was for him. Despite his heart beating at his rib cage hard, Corvo still felt so fucking good, for he was having fun. A lot of it, in fact, and he only imagined his assassin felt he same, for he wouldn't had continued this if he didn't, that much Corvo would dare say he knew about him by now.

And this was right. How it showed on the assassin, the way he moved, how he even ran, this was serious business, yet so damned fun. And he was very quickly gaining on Corvo, who found that his endurance was perhaps not the best it had been yet, perhaps because he was hungry. He didn't know, but all he knew was that he wanted to win again. So he tried his best to casually block the way, but a skilful move from his assassin had said man fling himself over the gap to the finishing line, and land with a roll, meaning he won. Corvo followed only a second or so later, breath first now catching up with him as he hunched over, hands on his knees.  
The assassin simply sat down onto the roof, breathing hard as well, and ended up looking towards his employer a moment later, who had regained his composure, and now stood standing before the other.

He reached out a hand, his assassin taking it, and thus said man was on his feet again, Corvo swearing he could _feel_  other man's smirk under that mask. Huffing, Corvo pushed at his chest playfully and lightly, doing so in a passing more than anything serious. And he heard a low huffing sound from his assassin as he went, supposing he got a chuckle out of him from that.  
And judging by the hand that patted Corvo's shoulder, and stayed there for a second, it was the truth.  
Said assassin gestured for Corvo to lead the way, and they were back to get where they needed to go, Corvo oddly enough not regretting racing his assassin, despite the time he had wasted. Hrmp. It was fine for now.

 

Back to finding their way, Corvo ended up stopping after just a short run, feeling the tear of the race earlier. He stood before what he knew were a more "underground" part of the city, supposing he'd get more help here than any other place. But when he started to climb down, cautious to not use his powers due to the nature of most men in the underground, he found that perhaps, this wasn't such a place no more. The lights worked, buildings repaired...

He did remember the duke muttering, so many years ago while Corvo stood at the sidelines, about restoring a part of the city, chasing out what vermin that were there...  
So this was that part.

A dead end. Corvo grinded his teeth, still hearing the soft landing of his assassin though. For it was quiet here, not as much noise and bustling as there was around the docks. And no wonder, this was a port city. They relied on fish, and whale meat, as well, if Corvo knew the Isles good enough, whale bone. And much else too, so keeping it clean and quiet around where the grime were, was always how things went in places like this.  
Sighing, Corvo took a few steps before him, looking over the street that was presented before him. It didn't seem deserted, so it would have to be lunch time, or something along those lines for the workers. It was worth it looking around despite the silence, and the eerie feeling that rested over the place from the lack of people. Traces of a black market meant he could track them, although perhaps not as well as he would've wanted to, but it didn't matter, it would still be a lead.

The assassin stayed close to his employer, looking around more than Corvo did. He seemed guarded, and Corvo didn't blame him for this, for it was more than justified. And needed as well, for soon Corvo heard a some footsteps between the buildings, and swore he could see a little cloud of smoke escaping from there.  
Hrm.

The Grand Guard. Clad in their uniforms, these two seemed to be of the messy kind, Corvo frowning deeply just looking at them. Disgrace to the uniform, both of them were, Corvo thought to himself as he huffed, frowning under his mask. Another man joined the two, looking like a worker, the man burly and very toned. Corvo was about to draw his sword, ready to fight, just for the sheer injustice for those uniforms, but the assassin's hand on... Waist... Stopped him. As well as the sudden pull he suddenly felt, and how he now stumbled towards the wall of a building, the assassin following after him quickly, and ending up against the wall.

Upset and surprised, Corvo STARED at his assassin, snapping his attention to him by touching him, something that the assassin reacted to. Corvo FELT the cold stare he most likely received, and his assassins hands raised up, but to talk, not to hurt, Corvo could already tell.

/Kill stealthily for now. There are people in the windows. Not watching, but there./

With an understanding nod, Corvo drew his sword, swinging it in his hand to just... Show off, and he casually slipped into the shadows of the place, the vegetation hanging over the buildings and clinging to the walls helping to hide him, at least a bit, as he started to circle around to get where he needed to, up on a balcony. Not up on it, just to hang off it, and wait. He took one pause before climbing, though, planning on rounding a corner to keep quiet and out of sight for now, to look for his assassin, who were gone. He'd best be, Corvo didn't hire him for nothing.

With heart settled, Corvo now hung from the balcony, muscles tensing as he tightened his grip around his sword, and, noted that a shadow was cast on him, all of sudden.  
Up on the rooftops before him, he spied his assassin, standing so casually, staring down onto the streets. He had no stance, no intentions of doing anything malicious out from his body language, and Corvo, hanging off there, found this to be... Interesting.  
Staring a moment too much, he watched his assassin, eyes following, leap down, jumping as if it was nothing, and fly. And just in the middle of his flight, Corvo joined him, springing off the balcony.  
He heard a wristbow go off as he flew, and a second later, Corvo made contact with the guard underneath him, the impact of his landing on him throwing him back, and onto the ground, face first, and with a sword lodged deeply into his neck, Corvo twisting it to make sure the guard wouldn't have time to scream.  
Not even a second after the impact, Corvo looked to his side, and found the assassin standing with his boot on the guards mouth, twirling his sword in his hand, and as if he was cattle for slaughter, slit his throat, wet sounds and gurgling following form the guard, who's neck has nearly been snapped by the impact, so there was little life left in him already.  
He died too slow, and Corvo... He only stared, not at the dying man, but at the assassin, who looked to his hand, finding that blood had shot from the man's throat up on it, rubbing the blood out on his glove between his fingers, standing over his recent victim yet, attention off the dead man now.

Then Corvo's attention snapped to the third man, seeing him wheezing on the ground, a wrist bolt lodged in his neck, his hands shakily trying to grip it. He was trying to scream, but he didn't manage anything else but gurgling.  
His assassin took care of him, stepping over the guard and then to the dying man before him, and cut his throat as well, the same way he did the guard. Then he stepped away, ending up at his employers side. Corvo rose up, and quickly started moving, and hurriedly as well. He left no time to spare in looking around for any painted signs pointing to a black market, and found none, mostly listening to his assassin's steps by his side than to confirm that he was indeed following him. They had wasted enough time by now, so it was best to hurry.

Finding no traces of any sorts, Corvo climbed up to the rooftops again, frustrated to a point. For more than one reason, but they had best to be left alone.

The two of them tracked along the rooftops, until Corvo was stopped mid run by his assassin, who pointed towards the mark, that Corvo recognised. Finally, they had some luck.  
Although, a question rose to Corvo, and he stopped himself before he jumped down from the rooftop.

/You recognise that mark?/

The assassin looked over to said mark again, then to his employer, the man seeming neutral for now. Said mans reply was nothing but a nod.

So Corvo asked with a full body gesture; /Why?/

And the assassin didn't even hesitate;

/My memory loss is not that bad./ A pause, and just as Corvo was about to jump down, he took a glance to his assassin, catching a /Yet./ from him.  
...  
Corvo swatted away the questions, and instead jumped down, expecting his assassin to come with him. And he did, his landing as smooth as ever. They tracked through the streets to the black market shop, finding it void of people, else from the shop clerk behind the counter, apparently counting his coin absentmindedly in his boredom.  
His attention was quickly gained, and he was met with Corvo at his counter, the assassin leaving the room, waiting for his employer. Now in full view of most of the folk passing by, but he paid them little mind, as long as he was left alone. Which he luckily was, and if people in Karnaca knew what was best for them, they had best to keep away as well. Whalers were never good news for anyone, especially not for people living in the underground and on the streets. Who would miss them?

A bag of coin caught the clerks attention, the man hesitant to reach out for it, for he knew there had to be a good reason for it.

"Give me information about how to get to Cullero. And get me 10 bolts, and 5 grenades. That bonecharm is good too." Corvo said, ordering like he had done this many times before. The clerk paused for a moment, quiet, before he went ahead and got a bouquet of bolts, the grenades, and the bonecharm. Then he shot a look to Corvo, nodded, and picked up the purse, counting the coin as he spoke;

"Well...;" The rather posh man muttered. "Docks, one of the smaller boats, if your time is short. I didn't tell you to steal one. -If not though, one of the trading ships. The more suspicious you look, though, the more they will take. I'd consider finding a masquerade mask of some sorts, if I were you."

The purse was settled back, with coin left in it, and Corvo quickly snatched it up, together with the rest of the items. "Thank you." He nodded politely, and headed off out of the door, leaving the clerk to smile. He recognised Corvo, having seen him months before, and the man couldn't help but to wonder what he wanted with all those bolts... But he didn't care to think about it no longer, and went back to counting his coin, starting to hum a lullaby.

 

Outside, Corvo gestured to his assassin to follow, and already, they were on their way. Once on the rooftops, Corvo stopped his assassin, bringing out three bolts to the other from his satchel.

/Why?/ The assassin asked quickly. Only to have the bolts pushed up against his chest instead, and into his hand, which wrapped around the three bolts, taking them, their fingers grazing each other in the process. Corvo had no answer. He didn't want to answer.

Then Corvo turned after watching the assassin put away the bolts, seeing that he was short on them. It had to be the only reason why he took them, Corvo thought to himself. With this all done, his assassin ready to go again, Corvo went off, heading towards the docks, with his assassin in tow. Although said assassin had questions to why they were headed back to where they had come from just very recently, he kept his questions to himself, only minding his feet making contact with the roof titles as they should, and to the ground of the balconies too.  
He made sure his grip was well too, for his employer before him was an impatient one at the moment. No surprises there, he had a damned good reason for sure, but it made his footwork sloppy, so the assassin made sure to keep an eye out towards him, his left hand twitching slightly with anticipation of something happening, just anything that would let him move.  
And there it was, after mistake and mistake, Corvo slipped just as he made his usual jumps, ending up gripping after something in the few seconds it took him to react to this. As if time moved slow, Corvo gasped out when he realised his mistake, and gasped even worse, most of the breath in him out of his chest and lungs once he felt something pulling at him, or... Holding him? He wasn't sure.

Then as he looked to his side, he found his assassin's mask right by his face, the man leaning his head over Corvo's shoulder from behind him. He found the sensation of arms around him... And then saw a light from a raised hand, to then...  
Time stopping, and the world becoming grey.

Not even a second later they both landed on solid ground, Corvo more clumsily than he wanted to at first.  
And as soon as time resumed properly for Corvo, for adrenaline and everything else had muddled his mind for the seconds it took, the man's hands that were outstretched on the roof under him, clenched quickly, and hard, feeling his nails scrape towards the stone painfully, but he didn't give one single thought to this.  
If he hadn't swore to be silent, Corvo would had snarled once he twisted his whole body towards his assassin, who by now was getting back on his feet.  
Corvo knocked him down by his waist, launching himself and his body into the man's stomach, elbow too close for comfort to his leg. Corvo didn't hear it, but the assassin let out a surprised grunt as he went flying, without much control, onto the roof, to his side, ribs feeling like they would most certainly bruise after this. And with clenched teeth, the assassin curled up to Corvo and grabbed his shoulders to tear him off him, but Corvo was already well on his way there, now sitting up with his legs pinning his assassin's legs down, fist raised above his head.

And within a moment it made contact with his assassin's face, who looked up, and was thrown right back down, his breath hitching as his head made contact with the roof titles again.

Corvo was about to punch him again. He was about to elbow him. He was about to STRANGLE him, but he stopped himself as he drew his fist back again for another punch, but it apparently was a mistake.  
For now the assassin surged up towards him, and the only thing Corvo saw in the speed was hands, that reached for his face, and he felt them make contact more than he saw them, the hands cruel and crushingly clenching his face.

The heart resting in Corvo's chest picked up it's pace as the man himself made harsh contact with the roof itself, his head, however, not.

The assassin had him over the edge, hands on his neck, and Corvo could only watch through blood soaked hands as he was still taken by surprise, how his assassin settled onto his chest, his movements slow. Calculated.

 

His heart nearly beat out of his chest as he realised how much danger he is in at the moment. So finally, after a few too many precious seconds, his arms rose up towards the assassins, holding onto them for dear life, and trying to tears them from his face.  
*The assassin could snap his neck right here, right now. *

But Corvo wasn't having it, and managed to tear him off, for apparently, there was no pressure applied to his head, only a very harsh grip. One that lessened for every second that went by, and how much Corvo managed to drag his assassin's hands off him.

And soon the assassins hands went back completely, tearing Corvo's hands off him in a quick motion, leaving his arms out of reach for the former Lord Protector.  
And he sat back, moving back too, his position and how his body language was- it showed a challenge. He was sitting back, arms now slowly crossing, edging Corvo to hit him, attack him, just do anything. He even made it more obvious by tilting his head up, telling Corvo to get up.  
Whatever this was, Corvo was having none of it, and he rose up, slowly enough for the assassin to react to, and let his hands go directly to the others neck. His hands wrapped around the assassin's exposed skin, feeling a few drops of sweat on the tan skin, and how it ruined his grip just a little bit. A grip, that was light. Not serious, not angry, but light. A test.  
The assassin's head had tilted back. As if telling Corvo to go ahead. Kill him. See where that would take him.

That wasn't how this would go, Corvo knew this. All too well. So he tested the waters, and at a point of pressing onto his assassin's neck, the assassin's hands reached up to his employers neck, and the bloodied gloved fingers wrapped around it, and applied just as much pressure, instantly. Corvo's lips parted once he felt it, he was far from not able to breathe, he knew this already for his assassin too.

...  
Something, like a jolt, hit Corvo, and his heart rate that had slowly calmed, picked up again.  
He didn't understand what this feeling was, not did he find himself with much time to think about it, because in a moment his hands left his assassins neck, and instead rested onto his wrists, his grip light. He didn't try to remove the hands, but the assassin took this the supposed right way anyway, and let his fingers slowly remove themselves from his employers neck, supposing he got the message.  
Once the hands left his skin, the parts exposed, Corvo still felt the imprint of them, the gentle pressure still there for a moment or two... And then he tore himself away, tossing his assassin's arms away from him, even though they had been lowered, and he instead grabbed the man's collar in his hand, his grip hard, and tugged at him upwards once with some force to get him to move.  
The assassin obliged, and moved off the man, Corvo following him in getting up instantly.

Once he stood up, they stood face to face.

Corvo felt that feeling he got back on the ground again. He didn't understand it yet, but he knew it wasn't fear. It wasn't anything around that.  
He licked his lip absentmindedly, a very short one, just to wet his lips. His eyes were intense as he looked over his assassin, trying to map him in terms of what he was feeling.

But he was unreadable. And in a moment, he turned away, a hand waving at his employer to go. He wanted to move, it seemed.

Clenching his hands, Corvo started moving along towards the docks, hands like fists as he passed his assassin. This gesture wasn't overlooked, both of them knew this, and once Corvo jumped off the rooftop they were on, and onto another, he couldn't help but to listen a bit more closely to his assassin.  
He got the message, yes.  
That's his second chance spent.  
And Corvo had no idea how he was feeling about this- nor how his assassin did. Not yet, and most likely, never. It didn't matter now- Corvo wouldn't make more mistakes.

He couldn't.

 

Eventually after some following, the two of them reached the docks, both stopping side by side on the rooftops, Corvo not having lost any trust in his assassin since what happened just a small while ago, and it seemed the assassin hadn't lost his trust in him either. It was nothing but a warning, and a very friendly one at that, it was nothing to be sour over, they both knew this.

Nothing much had changed since they were leaving the ship, else from the docks seeming much more emptier now than before. The fishing ships and boats had left their selected docks, leaving not much left, of cargo nor crew. There were still salesmen and workers lingering about, though, and some few ships still there, but they were very close to getting ready to leave.  
In a sense knowing it was best to get a smaller ship, Corvo took one glance to his assassin, and let it rest for a moment. Before... He tapped his foot, gaining the others attention.

/We get a skiff. We're nothing but two friends, fishing along the shores./

The assassin simply nodded, hands moving up. And Corvo's heart moved along with this, beating slightly faster. For some reason he had a feeling the assassin was mad at him, enough to not speak to him, but...  
He wasn't.

/We will need fishing rods and a bucket- then./

And with this, he suddenly took a leap from the edge, and Corvo found himself scanning the streets, finding his assassin by a few crates, just appearing there from the Void.  
Corvo joined him seconds later, blinking down, and landing skilfully.

And together, side by side, they headed to the ship, not really minding most of the other people that they passed on their way, for there weren't many. They did feel their eyes on them for a moment or two, but not for long, their lives drawing their attention back to the important things, luckily enough. Plus, that mask...  
They were clever, the people of Karnaca, for sure.

Corvo had already seen fishing rods on the way, so he simply picked them up as he passed them, not caring to see if they belonged to anyone or not. The bucket he had to turn n his heel for though, but he handed them on his way to turn to his assassin, who took them without much problem, packing them up in the skiff, laying them nicely on the side of the sitting boards.  
He then stood waiting for a moment, watching Corvo return with the bucket in hand.

/Food./

Corvo paused for a moment and reached for his coin purse, feeling it through the fabric of his pocket. He paused for another moment, and then looked up to his assassin, who slowly just tilted his head towards the streets again, and back to Corvo, who was now counting his coin.

/You go./

/We both go./

/I'm short on coin./ Corvo shock his head.

/Then you pick up some as we go./

Corvo instantly brought his hand back to it's usual position, and he stepped to the side, as if asking the assassin to come with him. And he accepted the "invitation", the two of them ending up in the streets of Karnaca again, and heading off to the markets.  
While Daud shopped for food, even indulging himself in some good fried meat and even a apricot tartlet or two, Corvo went ahead and stole coin around the market, silent as the grave, and as undetected as he always did. If he was truly not distracted, truly had his mind where it needed to be, Corvo would never fail.  
Daud also picked up salt. And lots of it too. He got it in a smaller sack, though, that was tied shut HARD.

With his coin now up to his own standards, and having enough to keep his assassin around for weeks, Corvo bought himself some food, necessities and some better goods as well. They joined up while on their way out, both with a sack over their shoulder. While on the docks, his assassin picked up a larger protective blanket that used to be placed over things when it rained to not let it get wet, and folded it once they were at the skiff, sacks resting in it together with the fishing rods. The assassin tucked the blanket under the sacks, and wobbled along with the skiff as Corvo joined him, now sitting above him. He was ready to go.

Tapping the value for the whale oil once, the assassin now started up the skiff, and made himself familiar with it before he drove them out of the docks, Corvo mindful of his bandanna in the wind, as it did pick up the more speed the skiff got up in.  
Corvo watched the docks and the city of his birth as the skiff slowly started to pass it, counting trees, counting most things as he went by it. Curious to see if his assassin was a man of sentimentality as Corvo was, he turned to look to him, finding the man's grip on the steering rod light, and his head geared turned ever so slightly towards the city.

Corvo tapped his foot, the assassin's attention drawn to him quickly, even though they were still moving.

/Do you recognise the city?/ Why Corvo asked, he had no idea. It was none of his business, yet... He found himself curious, especially since he caught him staring in the direction of it.

/I do. In a sense./

The answer was instantaneous. Corvo even nearly missed the two first words, as he was about to look away, not expecting any answers. And the silence after the assassin spoke, and Corvo's lingering stare... It prompted more from said assassin. Why? Who knew.

/A home, gentle hands. Long, raven hair. I lived here in my childhood. With my mother./  
This hands moved gently, and was quick to go back to the rod again.

Corvo just... Looked back to the city for a solid moment. Tried to find any sort of words to say. He knew he had his assassin's attention, so he just spoke.

/I did too./ Corvo finally managed to "say". He... Smiled a bit under his bandanna. He didn't know why.

/I had a sister too. But she left, years ago./

And with that, the two of them fell silent, and Karnaca disappeared beyond forests and rock formations, hills and general nature.  
His assassin was good in his driving, as they passed by the shores. He was good at making sure to stay off any underwater dangers too, a skilful driver, either that or just a logical one. Any stray rocks he steered away from, and he was never on too shallow waters as they made their way up north beside the land.  
When a ship, bigger than most passed them a far way from them, the two of them still pretended to be fishing, Corvo pretending to access the water under them, and picking up his fishing rod, digging in his sack and bringing up some bread to put as bait.  
His assassin did the exact same, but not with any bait.

And worse of all, they ended up fishing, until Corvo's bait was spent, where the man actually got a bite. It was an edible fish as well, so Corvo got to borrow his assassins sword in the middle of the excitement of this, and killed it. He was handed a bucket full of water too, the assassin already filled it.

Smiling under that bandanna, Corvo dropped the fish in it, and put the bucket down, keeping it steady with his foot while they drove off, the wind making it seem like their were sailing.

To let the wind feel a little bit less annoying, Corvo let his hair down, feeling how the wind took a hold of it, and tugged at it, freeing it. It honestly felt pretty good, and gained him a look from the assassin, who only thought it was good that Corvo was wearing something to cover up his mask with. Hair in your face is a horrid thing, the assassin knew this from his younger days.  
The day went on from this.

 

Eventually they slowed down a bit, the current enough to ferry them eve so slowly towards their goal, which was a goal a bit far away.  
Watching his assassin from his seat, Corvo wondered why the suddenly had pulled the bucket to him. He got his answer once the fish was out, and the assassin cut a hole in a small sack, revealing salt...  
He filled up the bucket, and quickly prepared the fish for preservation.

Corvo let the man work. It didn't matter to him, he liked the salt fish. Though he would rather take some meat.

With this done, the assassin washed off his hands, and gestured for Corvo to turn around.  
Something the man did. And once he did, he found his sack being handed to him, and a hand going up to his mouth, stopping right before it, and it closed and opened. It wasn't a sign per say, but Corvo understood what he was suggesting, and picked out some food to eat. It had been a GOOD while since their last meal, after all, so the food tasted very good, Corvo wondering why he hadn't felt the hunger creep on him for a such a good while.  
But it didn't matter too much, and as he ate, he kept an eye out to the land before him, and the ocean away from it. It was a beautiful sight when it was this calm, and also a very good temperature, not too warm, nor too cold. It was fine.  
The assassin just ate quickly, not too comfortable with being this far out towards the sea in a small skiff like Corvo most likely was, considering how his shoulders had sagged and relaxed.

He just took a hold of the rod as soon as he was done, slipping his mask down again after scratching through his beard rather harshly, and drove closer, Corvo holding up a hand visible to his assassin to ask if he could turn around. He got a finger on his own as a reply, Corvo turning around in a bit of a surprise, yet not, for he wouldn't hear a foot tap now.

Eventually during the trip, Corvo rested a bit more, leaning back and towards the console, sighing deeply. He was right opposite of his assassin, who didn't seem to mind it. He just kept an eye out for him, to make sure he didn't go head first into the sea and to the Hagfish.

But soon, Corvo blinked his eyes open, the assassins hand gesturing towards somewhere. Once he looked up, he saw them close to a port. No- docks.

They were here.

Corvo's heartbeat picked up, and he grabbed that hand by the wrist out of compulsion, a smile across his face. Corvo just pointed a hand out, and with this, the skiff started moving, and Corvo let go of the hand.

His mask wasn't far now.


	8. The Pounding Of Hearts

The smaller skiff rocked along the water as Corvo's body surged up from his seat, and he stepped across it over the equipment and legs before him, ending up with one knee at his assassins side, and the other stretched out back, staring towards where they were going. His eyes were wide with excitement, his body tense, and shoulders up to his ears due to this. As well, his head felt funny from waking up as he did, but it was no problem, Corvo just happy he wasn't the type to become sea sick.

His assassin, in all this sudden turmoil, only frowned deeply underneath that mask of his, and stared at Corvo's face for a while, of the side he could see. He found himself leaning ever so slightly from the man though due to the space he was taking, and... As it seemed Corvo wasn't moving, he put a hand on his shoulder, and pushed at Corvo to get him back, said man unable to stop it, due to the force of it. So he stumbled back onto his feet, only having less than a second on getting them under him, but he somehow managed.

His fists clenched, as he found his bearings, and saw who did that, and registered what he did- as well as it's results.  
But no matter how much his fists screamed for contact with his face, Corvo managed, somehow, to hold himself back. Instead of attacking the man before him, he gestured to the steering rod, palm out towards the sky.

It took a second or two, but the assassin understood what he wanted, and thus stood up in the little skiff, more calculated and controlled than what Corvo just had done. They switched places, the men needing to eel past each other as they did, so... Corvo found himself placing a steadying hand onto his assassin's shoulder as they moved, both moving as if they were synchronised, and knowingly, yet sort of unexpected from boths' sides, they slid past each other chest to chest, Corvo feeling the mask of the assassin close to his face as it slightly booped against his nose too... He felt a hitch in his breath from this, a short one, as if his lungs shut down for a second or two, as he adjusted to this, for the little second it took. (Though it felt longer in the moment.)  
And thus, with this, they ended up in opposite spaces, Corvo the one driving for now. It felt weird with how he was backing up into the docks, but it didn't matter too much, for it was not too far he had to go anyway, perhaps only 5-10 minutes.

Why the assassin wanted to approach the docks like this, Corvo had no idea, until he noted movements before him, though he was not looking at that direction before the sounds were made. He found his assassin digging into his bag, pulling up his old coat, and slipping it on, despite the warmth. And he casually, pulled the hood up, hiding himself to the world and revealing a rather grim imagine in Corvo's head, one he would rather not swallow down right now, but he had to...

But he realised why he did this, and he focused more on his assassin. On the form-... The Whaler before him.

While he noted his employers eyes on him, the assassin was quick to gain his attention, by a simple wave of the hand, a subtle, not too visible gesture to the rest of the world.

 

/How do you wish to do this?/ The assassin asked, hands slow to let Corvo see in the blinding sunlight reflected on the sea, that were an eyesore to both and blinded them from the side of the skiff.

Corvo didn't even hesitate, needing to let go of the driving rod for a second or two.

/We find the people who took the mask and claim it back. No distractions, nothing./

As quiet as things were between them even with a means to speak, the assassin only nodded as a reply, acknowledging what his employer said more than needing to ask questions or comment on his means. Which, felt unusual for Corvo, for despite knowing how to, Corvo didn't really see himself being the type to order others around, especially such people as the man before him. A mystery, one he didn't know much about. One he was highly cautious of, seeing his skills in combat, his survival skills and... Those burn marks that still showed on his coat.

Those damned marks.

Swatting his thoughts away as well as the creeping feeling that he always got when he started to think back to the first days of all of this, Corvo docked the skiff, his assassin watching over said place with an watchful eye, as far as Corvo could tell. He highly doubted the workaholic of a man would grow lazy at such a prevalent and important stage of his work relationship with Corvo, and how far they had come in this. Corvo did not grow lazy either, as soon as they even got close to the docks he managed to bump into it, earning a stare from his assassin, who most likely wondered what in the Void he was doing. But despite his fault at that moment, Corvo quickly tossed it aside and didn't let his assassin dwell on it, nor ask, for he stepped off, and stood waiting all of sudden, hand outstretched towards his assassin.

Who... Took a moment to understand what he wanted, but supposed only one thing. So he picked up the rope, tossed it to Corvo, then worked on the rest of the things to pack them down, while he bobbed around due to Corvo pulling the skiff in place. He even hit his body against the docks, shoulder first, and in that moment that he did, Corvo swore he heard a grumble, but the sensible side of him convinced him it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. This man was mute, selectively so, maybe, but Corvo was highly doubting it by now.  
If not extreme pain had him grunt, or whimper so quietly not even a wolfhound could hear him, he couldn't.

Corvo knew a stare was coming, and he noted it too, but gave the other no further attention, too busy tying up the skiff to secure it, in case of bad weather. Someone stealing it wouldn't be a problem, it was not thei-... His, but it would still be bad, meaning he could not pass by his old home before going back to Dunwall, most likely. He dreamt of it, on the way here. Dreamt of the paintings lining the wall, of the subtle wind making it's way through his window. The warm colours contrasting with the harsh sunlight shining through the blinds... He supposed things were different now, he had been gone for many years, but memories could let him not be too disappointed. At least he hoped so.  
With no other place in the isles than his old home in Karnaca now, he should have some hopes that perhaps, after all of this... Everything he wanted to do... He could have a place to return to, if he wasn't killed. IT would be a given that he wouldn't die, Corvo knew this, yet...

All the scars on his body told another story.

Using a proper cleat hitch, Corvo tightened the rope, muscles straining at his shirt as he did, but he paid no mind to it. And as he stood straight again, Corvo found his assassin at his side, and a bag being shoved into his stomach, and held there until Corvo took a hold of it. He did, and they both went ahead side by side towards Cullero, the city sprawling with the usual flare that many of the Serkonian cities had. It was the first time for Corvo being here, and seeing how the assassin looked around, not alike he did in Karnaca, it was clear that he hadn't been there before him either. Or perhaps, considering his memory loss, he might not remember his first trip here.  
It didn't matter, even if a little part in the back of Corvo's brain was curious enough to find a want to ask the man at his side- he didn't do it.

His attention was taken from his assassin, and he slowly turned his head to the buildings that approached, the two men walking in a brisk pace without much will to stop. Corvo moved his line of sight along with points of interests, moving his head along as he walked. His assassin took notice of this, but let it slide, supposing his employer could take care of himself and see where he was going. So, the assassin kept looking around, finding that the city was not so different from where they had just arrived from, only it seemed smaller, and less crowded. People were sitting around outside too, eating their lunches, basking in the sun, overall... It seemed this city was slightly more calm, for the moment, than Karnanca. Less busy.  
The assassin supposed people had their breaks, but wasn't sure, so he wouldn't dwell on it for long, honestly he had other things to ponder.

Moving along, Corvo took notice of the calmness as well, finding it to be dull. As well did his assassin, not something he showed, however, but it was due to them both being men of action rather than sitting around and talking like this, especially out in the sun.

The shadows were nothing but comfort to the two men, both enjoying hiding from the world and it's staring, keen eyes. Corvo knew it, ever so slightly from just what the man beside him was, a Whaler. Perhaps with other thoughts in mind, perhaps with a dream, but that, Corvo would never really know.

As Corvo turned to the trees showing over some buildings, and looking to vines and how they crawled up the building, Corvo couldn't help but to wonder what dreams a murder would have. Any Corvo had, any that he used to find solace in back in Coldridge, the first months- were all ripped away.  
And even when he had the key in hand outside of his open cell, the man staring down to it in his callused hands... He found himself empty.  
He had found himself staring up to the ceiling for a while. Just staring, silently.

He was free.

But the truth was, he never were. And would never be again.

Corvo turned his head to his hands once the thought of it came to mind. His eyes rested on them.

They were the same, weren't they? Despite everything...? Despite Corvo's attempts to forget. If he--

Suddenly Corvo's bubble of thought burst within a second, and he felt a familiar sensation on his shoulder- on his neck- over his skin. Something was tensing around his coat, his shirt and his hair, and with this, the whole world swung along with his body, as he was pulled away from something he only just saw, slipping out of focus and out of sight. He stumbled to the side, another hand rested now upon him, on his waist, a palm cupped his body in it, steadying him.

Corvo lips parted, teeth clenching after some slight shivering, as his head turned so sharply it hurt him, the pain surging through his body, and he found the assassin's mask, the Whaler, on his side, positioned in such a way that showed that it was his hands on Corvo, his hands surprising him, pulling him from his thoughts, pulling him away from something, as Corvo had just realised.  
The fuming rage that swelled in Corvo calmed, slowly in tune with him getting his bearings back after what had just happened. And he understood that he... Had nearly walked into a fish stand, the owner nowhere to be found, however. His assassin had simply moved him away.  
Corvo's sharp inhales hurt his parched throat, and he would hiss if he hadn't told himself to be quiet.

A simple shove to his arm, and the assassin let him go, allowing Corvo his space, which was dearly needed- he could tell by the hunched shoulders, the the breathing and how he could see it, and how it just seemed like his employer were generally really on edge. Oddly enough, this was not something the assassin found himself wanting to prod, so he just gestured casually to the street with an arm outstretched, knowing Corvo was watching him, as he felt his eyes on him, intense and sharp, just as his body language.

Corvo.... Nodded. And with a sharp turn, and a brush against the assassin's arm as he passed him, the two continued on their way up into the streets, Corvo looking for any small traces of a black market, or something along the lines. For information, and perhaps, something to draw with, and on.  
He spotted something already, a board full of posters, plastered everywhere on it, on each other and such.

Quickly moving towards it, in the progress making the assassin do a sharp turn to keep to his employers side, Corvo approached the board, trying to find a poster or just anything, that wasn't too destroyed by the rain, or too old. Ripping off the bad ones, he kept digging through them, his hand moving quickly, Corvo honestly not expecting the older ones to be any better, but he just... Felt like ripping off some of the posters. Especially the one of him, where it luckily said Masked Felon, and not his name. ... But as the poster gently floated to the ground, now covering in the same sand that Corvo's boots were full of, he found himself turning to his assassin, yet again, knowing all too well that he paid him perhaps a few too many seconds of attention.  
Did he ever tell his assassin his name...? No.

If he did he could be killed, memory loss or no. Corvo just turned back to the posters, mind emptying and his hands busy, the sound of ripping paper somehow comforting to him. From where it came, he had yet to realise, and found little time to try and remember it.  
But suddenly his hand stopped, and it hovered by a name, a picture, drawn by skilled hands. The familiar mask, the hood...

 **Daud**.

Not letting the name get to him, not letting even one single, tiny thought go to him and wonder if he was alive, Corvo ripped the poster off. Not any differently than the others.

His assassin at his side, he wasn't looking at the board. He kept to his work, watching Corvo's back, quite literally, as he stood behind him, arms crossed and in a casual stance. Corvo supposed this was a good thing, he wouldn't know how the assassin would react, and how... He himself would take his reactions. He didn't know if he wanted to let him react to this- for as quickly as those thoughts came, Corvo wanted to swat them away, and thus he did, but rolling up one poster that seemed alright enough to use, and brought it with him under his arm, to look more busy, and more like he belonged there.  
He tapped his assassin's shoulder, and the two of them went ahead again, Corvo paying little attention to the man on his side. Though he couldn't help but to hear his breathing, and how it sounded through the mask, creating an eerie sound. ... To anyone but Corvo, he was too used to it. HE supposed it was growing hot for the assassin, so Corvo slowly started to eel into the alleyways, into the shadows.

 

He would rather not carry his assassin around until he woke up from his heat stroke.  
They both climbed up once best out of sight from anyone, and found themselves up on a roof balcony of some sort, a make shift bar up there, as well as trays for growing vegetables. There were nobody there for the time being, but it showed that there had been people there just a few minutes ago, the smell of smoke still seeped from the wood and cloth dragged over the tables, held down by bricks laying on the tables.  
Corvo moved to the sunroof, sliding under it. His assassin disappeared behind where the door were, luckily both of them would stay out of sight of each other this way, Corvo supposed that was the reason to why he separated from him for the time being.

A shaky hand reached up to his googles, and to the bandanna that covered his nose and mouth, and he slowly took them off, not really wanting to, but needing to in order to finally breathe better. Corvo could hear his own breathing, mouth agape, and rested his head back in the makeshift couch, overly covered in pillows to make it more comfortable to rest on. It was wooden, so it needed it.  
He Laid like this for a while, before he fumbled into his bag, having claimed it back from his assassin before they went off, due to the man just tossing it at him. Out of it he pulled a flask of water, one that he made sure was big. They had actually bought a flask each while in the market before they left, two identical ones, as stupid as that was.

So...

Corvo's sword left it's place on his hip, and he unfolded it, lapping up the stray drop of water that rested on his lower lip in the progress. After a moment to see the blade, see it's wear and the blood still on it, Corvo flipped it around in his hand for a moment, and stopped. To then... Take a hold of the blade itself, pull it up to the metal flask, and he carved a mark on it, a simple scratch. But... Slowly the man casually made the scratch worse, making it seem like someone had been digging into it.  
This took only a few seconds, and he blew off the residue and dust to reveal his work. At least now he would know which was which.  
And there he rested for a little while. He knew of his and the assassin's sign for when they needed to put on their masks again, so he kept his ears perked.

The assassin, had greedily taken large chugs of his flask, his shirt unbuttoned by two, just to let the skin on his neck breathe for a moment.  
Sweat were beading on his forehead and face, making him want to simply leave, and jump into the ocean. He did need the bath, too, he thought, but let it slide for now. He could do it after the mask was secured.  
He felt hot, that was all he knew for the moment. He could take it, sure, but it still were not comfortable. And with a hood on, it was even worse.

But it would just have to be, until his employer decided that they were ditching the streets.

It did seem he was thinking of it.

The man's lips formed a thin line, as he took a few moment to simply relax, head leaning against the wall, slightly tilted towards his shoulder- as if he was falling asleep. He thought he might as well, but his mind didn't let him. He was too focused on the work ahead, too focused on most thing, to let himself do anything but to sleep. And it was fine for now, it was what he was needed for.  
And he knew, sleep were a double sided dagger.

Sometimes he dreamt of the past, of what he could remember. He had been so foolish as to tell his employer of one thing he knew, and now... He would have a hard time to forget about it, he knew this. His heard refused to let him forget it too, it was such a comfortable, dear memory of his, his mother. Warmth filled him, and it felt foreign in his body, in his mind.

He didn't want those memories. In his mind, they weren't his. He should do well to remind himself of that- every now and then.

... His mind wandered to his employer. Wandered to the work ahead. He needed this distraction. So he pulled his sword from it's place, slow and calculated, and knocked the blunt hilt onto the wall, sounding a firm thud through the air, and it reached Corvo. He did as his assassin, only using his flask, and hit the floor, to make enough sound so that the other could hear it, once he had put on his makeshift mask set up.

His assassin appeared before him, the man looking over his employer with no thoughts in mind. Though he did form one eventually after noting his employer not planning on moving, and it was that... He seemed awfully comfortable there. The assassin stood waiting for his employer to move, the man though, he only looked to his side, and nudged with his head. He stood up, and quickly gestured to the roof, telling his assassin to keep to them.  
He did, and together they both went to the edge, their short break over.

They disappeared as they both flew down towards the streets, only materialising once they landed onto them, side by side as always.  
As it should be, Corvo thought for a fleeting moment. But he ate the words, and they continued on their way, slipping into what shadows they could find.

 

\------------------------------------------

"HEY!"  
The guard yelled, grabbing after the white flash at his side, voice loud enough to cause a prominent echo through the halls. One that one of the cleaning servants even heard, and the hairs on her neck stood up as she heard it, for that yell... It was one of pure anger.  
And no wonder, for the guard just had his sword stolen. Snapped from his waist, by a very familiar figure, one that he knew all too well. It was the Empress- dressed in white as always, with her steps light and quick, but he had just realised that after he had grabbed after her, and he quickly found his position again, clearing his throat. If he touched her, he was dead. So... He let this one slide, watching the Empress run along down the halls, and disappearing right afterwards.

 

Now... She stood before the door again. The door that hadn't been touched in weeks, that seemed so big to her. Every worker, every servant and every man in court had been ordered, harshly, to stay away from it, by Emily herself in the throne room, where the picture of her mother still hanged on the wall, as royally as it always would, for the rest of Emily's reign. It was a constant reminder for Emily, of what she had lost, and what she needed to work towards, in order to not lose her own life.  
So why was she here? Before the room of the man who murdered her, from being so useless- to not being able to fight the attackers, from not being able to... Protect her. Her mother.

Jessamine Kaldwin.

Emily took a deep breath, her chest heaving up to brace herself as the key she always carried with her around her neck slotted itself into the keyhole, and opened the door with a solid "click", her hand shaky, but she didn't let it bother her. She took heavy footsteps through the creaking door, and quickly shut it behind her, slotting the key in as if she stabbed a man, and turned it so quickly she was afraid it would break, to not let anyone hear her or get to her. She was skipping out on the last part of court for this, skipping out on the boring lectures and whatever else bothered her in her usual day to day life.  
As the young girl turned around, the first thing that hit her was the smell of dust, heavy in the air. It was a usual smell for a room that hadn't been used in a very long while, Emily finding herself used to it. Her nose, though, not so much, as it already tickled, making her frown, and rub it ever so slightly, while she moved into the room.

Today she had decided that she wouldn't just look around the room, and she found that she had time as well, for it would take a while for the servants and Lydia to find her. She would turn the room upside down, look in every corner of it, and even to force whatever locks she found open with the sword. She was strong enough for that, after all, she had been training on her own for several weeks now. It wouldn't matter if she had to struggle anyway, she could simply throw the thing down if she needed. ... Maybe not his closet, though, but...  
Once she stepped closer to said closet, due to the light, she found that she was wrong the first time she had been there. Perhaps it was the darkness of the room that made it so that she couldn't see, Emily thought to herself, as she found the handle to it stained in a brown colour, just like the bloodied footsteps on the floor. And once she touched the handle, she felt a thick layer of dust on it too, Emily not minding it, and simply went ahead and tried to open it.  
It was locked tight.

So the sword was lodged in between the doors, Emily already pulling it at least a bit open.  
She carefully positioned it right, making sure to not position it in such a way that if her grip slipped, should would be hurt. Or, that she would be hurt in any other way, like wood springing off the doors and hitting her. Or even worse, the door breaking off completely.  
She pushed the sword as far as it could, and then went ahead to try and pry it open, taking one huge pull at first. It didn't help, but did make enough room and she could most likely tear it up enough to see through. And she saw nothing but clothes so far, in the very thin line of light that shone through. Emily kept pulling, the sword oddly enough managed to hold itself together as she did this.  
With a sudden crack, she heard the door's lock move from the inside of the door. And she pulled the sword back even harder, needing to support herself with her feet against the closet on the other door. And with this, the door all of suddenly flew open, the suddenty of it all making Emily lose the grip of her sword, so it went flying off in the opposite direction of her, crashing up against the bed, and leaving a solid slice into the fabric covering it.

Emily finally let herself breathe, and with wide eyes, looked straight back to the now opened closet. She was quick to move to it, and pushed open the other door too, revealing the contents inside to the light.

There were only shelves in the closet, not so different from any other closet in this place, and she found most filled with clothes. Some with books... Nothing much too interesting, easily said.  
But further up on the highest shelf, was a chest of some kind. A smaller one, slotted in just perfectly into it, as if it was made only for that shelf.

... Emily had to find something to step on to reach it.  
So she tore out all the books she could find, and stacked them quickly, not caring if it made too much sound at the moment. The chest was important- she just knew it. He wouldn't lock away anything unless he wanted to hide it... Honestly, who wouldn't. Emily did that- not even her mother knew that she had an extra doll, a friend for Miss Pilsen.

She found that there were not enough books to help her, so she turned back to the room before her, finding that the side table by Corvo's bed would suffice. She kicked away the books, went over to the side table and brought it out onto the floor, to then proceed to push it with all she had over to the closet. She climbed onto it, careful to not step on the thing on it, and reached up, only barely managing to get a grip onto the chest.  
Slowly she inched it out, for it was pretty well stuck in there. And soon, she brought both hands around it, fingers gripping hard, as she took it down, the thing heavier than she thought, so she almost dropped it, just almost...  
She found that the chest had a lock too, so it was to go and pick up the sword again.

Placing the chest onto the floor, Emily stuck the tip of the sword in between the lid and the chest itself, not too far, though, to not damage whatever was inside. She held the box part down, as she started to pull, finding it going up a lot quicker and easier than the closet.  
The lid soared up, and shut just as quickly, due to the force of it. Putting the sword away, she quietly opened up the lid, and removed what contents that were inside. She found letters, all of them she ignored. A key too, one she wasn't sure of where it would go, but it looked old, and rusty. With bloodstains on it...  
The biggest item in the box, was something bundled in cloth, that looked like one of her mothers old shirts...  
... For once, delicate hands removed the shirt that surrounded the item. Halfway through, she felt the item... Pulsating. She heard it too... She hand't heard or seen this before now. Uncertainty, and a hint of fear ran through her, but it didn't let her stop.

... The first thing Emily saw was the glass- and the light. Pulsating, as if in a heart... Then... She saw flesh. The flesh itself.

Her hands shock as she finally revealed the last of the cloth shielding the item, dropping it once she saw what was in resting in her hands.

" _My dearest daughter_."

\------------------------------------------

A hand pointed before Corvo, a familiar, gloved hand. It seemed he had finally found a sign of something that could help them; a black market symbol, pointing towards east.  
Corvo nodded, and together with his assassin, he made his way, following the signs as they went along. They found themselves in green and lush gardens, through just as lush alleyways, meaning that it was highly likely the entrance to the place was very likely hidden by some greenery. Vines hung heavy over windows and such to one building, and as they hadn't seen the symbols for a while, Corvo supposed it was worth looking around. So him and his assassin moved a few of the vines away, and indeed, where there were many, was the door. The assassin was the one to figure this out, so he held it up for his employer, who didn't even think of it as anything but just how it should be as he opened the door, and entered in. In there, they got directly to the storefront, the person manning the place not there at the moment.  
Frustration bubbled up in Corvo's chest, and he without much warning, hit to the wall beside him. To then, while the assassin just stopping and crossing his arms, letting Corvo burn as he wanted to, said man went to the counter, and pounded onto it hard enough to make some sound.

...

...

Nobody.

Corvo pounded again, nearly breaking the wood.

The assassin sighed internally out of sheer annoyance, and went over to Corvo, giving him a light kick in the shin. A fist flew towards him, just as he predicted, so he avoided it skilfully.

Corvo huffed, fist clenching so hard he could feel his veins straining against his bones. And he gestured to the assassin, that if he did that again, he would wring his neck around. Something the assassin didn't even react to. But while he had his employers attention, he gestured vaguely over towards the bench or so that stood idly by the very shut off window. Perhaps it was for people who were waiting in line, or just there from when the other tenant lived here, no matter, though.

Corvo looked to it, then back to his assassin. And... He actually went over to it. Settled down. And by his side, not close, settled the assassin too, now cross armed again, mostly for comfort.  
Even though he didn't want to admit to it, he realised that the assassin was right to suggest they take it easy. There had been little sleep the last day, that was for sure, and there would be even less tonight, if they got a good lead. So whatever rest he could get, was perhaps good.  
But at the same time not. His heart started to race in between his ribs, and all he wanted to do was to spring up, and look elsewhere.  
To just do anything.

Then they both heard a door closing, and synchronised they both looked up, the assassin's head actually having dropped slightly.

Corvo stood up so fast he grew dizzy, sparks flying in front of his sight for a very short moment. His assassin kept himself seated.

Out walked a huge brute of a man, and into the shop area itself. He looked puzzled.

"You ain't... You..." His eyes rested exclusively on the assassin now.

"You a Whaler. You here for the mask?" The assassin casually motioned to his neck, doing a slice over it with his thumb, watching as his employer surged towards the man, who supposedly was the shop keeper. With this he stood up.

"... Ah. Mut--" He was silenced and majorly surprised by a pair of hands gripping onto his collar, and pushing him towards the wall, the hands belonging, of course, to Corvo. They were strong, merciless, as he lifted the man up towards the wall, Corvo about to speak, but the words were stopped in his throat, as if he put a cork in it. It gave the man time to open his eyes, seeing the other man leave the place.  
All Corvo needed was heard, the door closing. So he cleared his throat, rasping out his words darkly, threatening the man before him too.

"What mask?"

The shopkeeper grunted, gripping around Corvo's arms. "Let me down, you insa-- ARGH!" Corvo hit his head against the wall before he could continue.

"F-Fine! I have a wife, be gentle!!" The shopkeeper growled, stuttering more than he should from the pain. "She'll kill me..."

"Was the Lord Protector's once. All beaten up- sent it back to Dunwall for repairs! Was supposed to tell your friend there, since 'im Whaler wanted it, but you damned well scared 'im away!"

Corvo let him go, all too quickly. His heart rate picked up again, but it felt like it was trying to kill him.

"What ship!?"

"Been a few hours now, guessin' it's soon done stocking up. The Old Hag, docked at the other side of the city. Guessin' you want it then, huh? For yo-" He didn't even manage to finish, as the former Lord Protector before him, (him not knowing, of course) bolted out of the building so quickly he almost got tangled up in the vines before him, but luckily not.

On the wall right beside the door and the window his assassin was, Corvo not even seeing him as he bolted off.  
As if a switch was turned, the assassin bolted after Corvo after kicking off from the wall, catching up with him pretty quickly, not even having a hard time to keep up either. They ran like madmen through the streets, Corvo not even breathing right, but he couldn't care less at the moment, as all he needed for now, was to gain more speed, get to the other end of the city, as he actually sort of knew where it was from seeing maps on the way there, hanging around for everyone to see.  
He passed many people, including some guards, who in the heat of the day let this slide, supposing he was having a race with the other man beside him. But one, more perceptive guard took a second look to said man, and saw that familiar mask. After a second of putting puzzles pieces together in his head, he realised that he should be running now too- so he did- as if his master behind him was whipping him.

"HEY! STOP!" The guard screamed at the two, both of them hearing it, and ignoring every word out of his mouth. In fact, while they ran, the assassin tapped his employers shoulder, and stroked a finger up against his skin.

Corvo realised what he wanted with this, somehow, and nodded, the two suddenly separating from each other, as one ran into an alleyway, and the other BACK towards the guard, Corvo was that one.  
He would meet his assassin up on the rooftops, who was by now blinking up, not wasting any time with climbing normally. His Mark made it sort of easy for him to be seen as he was as usual mostly sticking to the shadows, but that was alright for now. He wouldn't return here for years if he could help it. Corvo quickly slid along the guard, who was already coming to a stop, reaching for the blade on his hips. He grunted low once he felt a hand on his shoulder, and panicked looked to his side, finding Corvo's hand moving all too quickly, around to his neck... And all of suddenly, he ducked down, and he kicked the guard down, throwing him aside. And oddly enough, let him live, for the he knew the moments he needed to get out of sight was the ones the guard needed to get up. So with the guard down, Corvo sprinted off, and quickly flung himself out of sight, instantly looking up while he was running, of course making sure that the road ahead was relatively clear before he did so.

In mid run Corvo blinked to a balcony, took a solid grip of it, and threw himself as far as he could, in the process finding out where he had to blink next. And he did, now reaching out to get a grip onto the rooftop, managing to do so quickly, although it did bring some pain in his arm and shoulder, as well as his face, for he slammed against the wall harshly.  
He got himself up after some struggling, and quickly looked around him, up mostly, for the building he was by wasn't the tallest.

He saw his assassin, looking over the edge, and down onto him, the man cast shadow, but still Corvo could make out it was him.  
Corvo jumped, and blinked to his best ability, and managed just barely to close in the distance between him and the rooftop, just missing. And as if the assassin had seen him coming, he reached out for Corvo, and their fingers only nearly brushed against each other, Corvo grimacing under his mask as he... Just couldn't reach.

With this though, Corvo heard the sound of the Mark being used. And suddenly, the assassin had him in his arms, appearing out of thin air.  
Time stopped, and Corvo felt like he could breathe again, as they both ended up on the rooftop that his assassin just was on, his assassin holding around him and keeping him up with one hand, the other clenching hard around the edge.

A bit taken off guard by this, Corvo paused for a solid second, as he gathered what had just happened. And how- damned close the two had ended up like this. The chin that was resting on Corvo's head nudged on Corvo, asking him to get a move on, but Corvo just looked up towards the assassin's masked face for a little while, eyes wide under those goggles, and with the assassin's muzzle resting on his head.

A muzzle that was hit against him, and Corvo realised he was staring. So... He twisted around, climbed up, the assassin heaving himself up as soon as he could let go of his employer.  
Corvo actually... Stood waiting for him to get to his feet for a second, even facing him, before he went back to sprinting. His assassin joined without any problems, and they made record time on the rooftops, parkouring over the gaps as if they had never done anything else in their lives.

The sea and docks showed before them now, Corvo counting all the ships he could see, even the small ones, even though he knew that he was going for a larger one. If they were stocking up, it was highly likely they were a trading ship, or even better, smuggling ship. Hopefully the entire crew were fighters. Corvo needed to get out some frustration about all of this, despite his lungs harsh struggling to heave in breath by now.

A quick, very quick jump, and Corvo found himself on the streets again, the rooftops to jump on starting to thin out, as the buildings stretched further and further up before them. His assassin followed just a few seconds after, still using the trick that his employer showed him, soon a month ago, simply to make things easier for him. It always felt natural for him to do, even the first time, so perhaps, he already used to do this, before meeting this very stubborn employer of his.  
Corvo continued running, and spotted the right ship, simply by seeing how far they had gotten with stocking up, and how they were already preparing to to cast off. By letting one of the dock workers remove the rope...  
By sounding the horn...

Corvo bolted off again, his assassin right by his side. His muscles ached as he continued his stride, Corvo seeing how the ship slowly, but surely, continued out of the place...

All too quickly.

Panic welled over him. And within a blink on an eye, they both were at the last stretch, Corvo seeing very clearly that he would not be able to jump to it, nor to blink to it, unless he got some sort of air time first. And there were no time for that.  
His assassin pushed away the oncoming dock worker, causing the poor man to fall into the sea, screaming as he did. None of the the men cared, and all of sudden...  
Corvo watched as the world went grey...  
And he felt a hand wrap around his hand, secured, and firm. He twisted his head towards his assassin, seeing him having switched sides, and with his assassin's left hand moving up, Corvo got what he wanted to do, and gained a smile under his mask, tightening the grip he got around his assassin's hand.  
But things didn't go as Corvo thought at first.

His assassin blinked, and they found themselves airborne. With no pause, Corvo found himself being flung in midair by the assassin, Corvo ending up flying towards the ship. He wouldn't make it like this, so he blinked, all while the world turned back to normal, and he landed, securely onto the ships deck.  
Behind him, he heard more blinks, and then, a thud towards the metal hull of the ship. He made it...

The crew just noticed Corvo, having heard both thuds of the two men arriving, but at first believing it came from the ship's motor. For judging by the hull, this was an old ship. They all stood bewildered for a while, some even daring to approach the man that stood there, masked and looking dangerous.

Corvo drew his blade, quickly and skilfully. He was still out of breath, so one could hear that he had been running, Corvo standing with his mouth agape under there, doing his best to gain some air. Suddenly, a solid thud was heard behind him, and Corvo turned sharply towards it with an intent to attack, but before him was his assassin's patched up back turned towards him, and his sword shown, ready to be used. Corvo got his smile back, and quickly took the stance he always used.

The crew were all confused at this point, but wary. They were all armed, it was easy to see, some even to the teeth.  
The captain of the ship came walking up to the crowd of people, the man looking rather annoyed at the others.

"Okay, what is this!? What are ye doing on the Old Hag!?" He growled the next words.

"This ain't even my ship- I'm just borrowing it!"

Corvo rolled his eyes, and nudged his assassin with his elbow. The assassin sighed deep, and blinked away, the man all reacting with yelps or surprised "woah"'s once he was gone.

Corvo waited a few seconds to speak, seeing the shadow of his assassin on the top floor of the ship, disappear further away from him into the shadow of the roof.  
"The mask of the Lord Protector." Corvo said, voice like a rasp.

The captain's eyebrows heaved, as if he knew what Corvo was talking about, but tried to hide it.

And honestly, that was enough.

Corvo blinked towards him, feeling drained of his powers by now, and promptly gripped the back of his head, pulled it back harshly, and when the captain opened his mouth to either scream, or growl, Corvo thrust his sword through his mouth and out of the back of his skull, and pulled out the sword in a very messy way, not even caring.

The crew all flew into a panicked rage, some of them screaming. And this was his assassin cue to get back, so he did, Corvo seeing his shadow, and how it flew towards him...  
And then heard one of the crewmen scream and being knocked onto the ground, the assassin settled on him, with blood from the crewman's throat staining his mask. The crewman gurgled, still alive, but not for long, even as the assassin stepped off him, sword raised and his whole body language ready for a fight, the crewman life was ebbing away.  
With this Corvo attacked another crewman, stepping up to him as he attacked him. His assassin made sure, with skilful steps and well placed sword swings, that he was not to be overwhelmed or swarmed by the other crew members, who all wanted a piece of them both, but mostly, they wanted Corvo lying dead in a pool of his own blood.

"COME ON YOU FUCKING INSANE BEASTS!" One of the crewmen roared, the assassin silencing him by shooting a bolt straight into his mouth, and it flew right out of the back of his skull. Corvo was busy with the crewman that attacked him, their swords clashing a few too many times for Corvo's liking. He started to lose his patience with this idiot, so he quickly used his free arm to punch the other with once they stood locked in a duel again, making him slip up just enough for Corvo to grab his throat, and press his finger into it, as hard as he could. The crewman tried to stay Corvo's arm with his sword, but got Corvo's sword in his instead, and promptly, the arm flew off, as the man screamed in pain, starting to shake violently as well. Corvo dropped him, and went over to another, leaving him bleeding and a screaming mess onto the floor.

And within the next minutes, that crewman watched every single man he had worked with fall, most in brutal, horrid ways, as the two men that had appeared on their ship slaughtered on.  
The assassin had gotten a few scratches, while Corvo got a few as well, for they were a bit overwhelmed, both of them, which is why the men fell in such brutal ways.  
The two men ignored the still alive, but quickly bleeding out man on the deck, pressed up in pure and raw fear against the ship. Corvo quickly went over to his assassin, and he to him, Corvo finding that the assassin's mask had been slightly damaged, and there were blood droplets around the slice. And without really thinking about it, he let his hand travel up to his assassin's mask, pressing a thumb onto the wound, the assassin somehow... Letting him. Blood flowed out of the wound, meaning it was deep.

Corvo's arm that he had lifted up was damaged, though, so the assassin placed a hand there, moving the man's sleeve down to see the injury there. It was nothing major.

"Y-you.." They heard from behind them, both turning to the source of the sound.

"Kill me." He whimpered.

A pause. And Corvo moved his hand down.

/Go find the mask./

The assassin nodded, and wandered past the only surviving crewman.

Corvo passed him too, and left to captains hut, leaving the crewman screaming after them, calling them things, and all else he could think of in his panicked, and dying state.  
Under deck, the assassin killed the men who had somehow managed to sleep through the noise and all else in their sleep, it was perhaps only two of them. Few, he thought to himself, as he started to check everything.

Up in the captains hut, Corvo ripped off the lid of a crate, one that looked the most important. And in the crate, bundled in between hay and newspaper rolls...  
Was his mask.

With shaking hands, Corvo picked it up, carefully and calculated. It was busted beyond reason, as if someone had been kicking it around, playing with it. He tried, so, damned hard to not clench his fingers around the metal, tried so hard to avoid damaging it further, and somehow, he managed. He slipped his mask into the first clean shirt he saw, rolled it gently up, and slipped it into his coat pocket.  
He stomped out of the captains hut, the door flinging open violently as he went on.

Angry footsteps were heard from the crewman, and he damn well heard the man approach where he was.  
Corvo roared, as he instantly reached towards the only surviving man, grabbing his throat, with both hands, and brought him onto his feet.  
He looked half dead already, but. Corvo still pressed so hard onto his throat, that he helped him die much faster, Corvo even snapping his neck due to the force he found himself using.  
His fingers stung once he let go of the dead man now, and he looked to the corpse, not finding this enough. Not wanting to let him go just yet.

Under deck, the assassin hadn't heard the scream, due to being in the engine room. He even looked there, for even though he had turned over the only room under there, he still couldn't find the cargo that these men were supposed to have. So he moved on, leaving the overly warm room, and headed back up to deck. This wasn't a trading ship, it seemed.

Corvo turned sharply from the bloodied deck, and back to the stairs, as he heard someone come.  
He drew his sword, eyes wild, his body language wild. He was overcome by anger and rage.

He would give the one who came out some time, though. To see what killed him. What would rip him apart.

But as the door opened, he saw someone hopefully familiar, with hair a mess, even more messy due to sweating from the warmth down in the engine room.

Corvo attacked still. He just saw a Whaler to him, in his blind rage, and the shopkeeper, he said that... There was a Whaler here, in a mask. This was him. Corvo was convinced of it. The assassin quickly dodged the swing, and even more quickly, grabbed a hold of his employer's sword arm, tightening his grip, making his employer drop his sword. He could already see that he was enraged, and needed to calm down, before he would hurt himself. And by this, the assassin meant he would kill him- for this was going beyond the limits of reason.  
Corvo grabbed onto his assassin's face, trying to gain a grip around the other's throat, but all of suddenly, the assassin wrestled the arm away from himself, and now, both Corvo's arms were out of his control, due to the raw strength of this Whaler before him.  
All Corvo saw was blood. He wanted this fool dead. Where was his assassin!?

The former Lord Protector knew using his feet would be a mistake, he could be easily thrown down if he did. But yet Corvo moved closer, trying to brace the strength that was holding him back, but this was a mistake.  
And just as his assassin's back hit the railing from all this, and Corvo having punched him, just as he was forced further back by all of this, Corvo stopped struggling, for he saw that cut on the Whaler's mask... And a bit of the patches on the Whaler's coat.

It was him.

It was too late, as he watched his assassin as he fell back, over the railing, and right into the deeper ocean, landing into the warmer water with a loud and painful splash, Corvo all too quickly looking after him with a panicked look on his face, as the ship continued on out onto the sea. He picked up his sword, hurriedly, secured it and all his possessions brought nice and securely into his coat, and he dove into the sea, after his assassin...

Said man was struggling to get up. He knew how to swim, but with the brute force he had used, the running, everything today, he found it harder than it usually would be to get up to the surface, especially considering that he had swallowed some water when he fell, the pain of it causing him to involuntary gasp for non existent air. But he managed, arms struggling to keep him up, as he gasped loudly, coughing, and everything, the man trying to not mind the blood swirling around him in the water, most likely coming from him. It would attract the Hagfish, he knew this, so it was best to get a move on, but... He was exhausted. To the bone from all this.

Suddenly something took a hold of him, the assassin failing to hear whatever it was due to a loud peeping in his ears. He twisted to see what it was, about to kick whatever it was away, but found that it was his employer, hair sticking to his face, to his googles, and everything. He got a hand to his face, and it helped him to keep his head up above water.  
Ah.

But he didn't do what the assassin thought he would. Instead of cutting his throat, instead of fighting him, his employer brought him closer, hand wrapping around the back of his neck, as if... In a hug.

/Swim./ Corvo told him as he pulled his assassin away from him, just enough to still help him stay afloat.

The assassin nodded, and found his bearings as well as he could, now that his employer helped him to keep his head above water.  
With this, they found their future way back, the ship not having gone far, as it had actually gone slightly off course due to nobody at the helm. So they weren't that far from the coast, perhaps 15 minutes swim to the nearest land, which was just as far from as the swim from the city they had just left. The fight hadn't lasted long, after all. None of this had lasted long.  
With blood trailing behind them, the two helped each other as best as they could to swim back.

And as soon as they got their feet onto some kind of ground, they quickly stumbled onto them, Corvo reaching to the assassin to help him, as he nearly tripped. Once on land, onto a beach, actually, the two of them simply fell down onto the warm sand, the assassin on his side, and Corvo on his stomach. They both heaved for breath, the assassin coughing a few times, just to get some water out of his lungs.  
Both were exhausted by now, Corvo not as much as his assassin, though, oddly enough.  
He had, at least for now, the energy to turn to his assassin, laying while facing him. The assassin just coughed, he said nothing.  
Corvo didn't know if he had his attention, but... He used sign language anyway.

/I found the mask. It is broken./

The assassin just coughed a few times, before he nodded. Ugh, he wanted to vomit to just get this over with.

/I was lost to rage. I'm sorry./

There were no answer from the assassin, he just made himself more comfortable, prepping a supporting arm out towards Corvo since it was the only way, also to rest it. Not too sure what this meant, Corvo he... Looked to it for a little moment.  
And he reached out his own hand, and placed it onto his assassins. Said man didn't even flinch, he let him. He got the memo as soon as it was too late, and he was falling off the railing. He knew from the moment his employer came for him that it was due to that. It didn't surprise him by now, it had happened quite a few times. Too many for comfort.

They laid like this for a while, resting together, Corvo oddly enough not pulling back his hand.  
It was all he could think to do.

 

Hours later, he woke up.

He found his assassin still lying there, as he had, looking like he was asleep.  
But just to be sure, Corvo got up, went over to him. He stopped himself, though.

... Why did he want to help him? His work was done... Sure, he had some days left... But...  
Biting his lip, Corvo still placed a hand onto the assassin's neck, checked his pulse. There was one, luckily. But he was cold, and no wonder, for the moon stood over them now, not the sun. It was already going down by the time they got back to land anyway.  
So...  
Corvo shock the man lightly, and he didn't even wake up.

This had Corvo worried, and he pulled him up in his arms, despite him feeling heavier than he was due to Corvo's exhaustion, and he brought him with back to Cullero, walking slow to not make himself too tired and exhausted just from this.  
On the way, the assassin woke up though, coughing violently, and nearly flailing out of Corvo's arms due to the surprise of where he was.

But when he realised where he was he stopped, especially when Corvo let him down onto his feet, facing him.

/Food and a bed./ Corvo told his assassin, who nodded to that, not even hesitating.

And with this, they found themselves at an inn deeper into the city, both paying half of the price for a big room. There they got some dinner from the staff in the inn minutes later, both eating with backs turned on the bed.  
The bed was unfortunately a big one, meaning there were no other place to stay for either of them, as there were no cough, and the only chair would kill a man if they slept on it, there were no armrests.

So they both ended up laying down, both their coats hanging over the edge of the bed by their feet. Back to back, sharing the huge blanket. This was just because of the necessity of it. Nothing more.

Sleep took them like a wave, and they slept for too long.  
Only stirring when dusk set in in the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS was a LONG chapter, over 10 000 words!! Just stuff that happens, sorry for the insane length. :'''D
> 
> And sorry for the long wait, creativity has eluded me as of late. But I'm not dropping this story c':
> 
> Thank you for reading! c':


	9. Exhaustion

Corvo awoke to shuffling in the bed.

Blinking his eyes open, Corvo slowly stirred to be able to move his head, his muscles raw and hurting with even the most subtle movement. But he braced it as well as he could, sneering under his bandanna as he did. As he moved, his muscles hurt to be point where it was hard for him to control how he moved, and he figured rather quickly that how he wanted to move was not how he ended up. He found a pair of hands on him after regaining some form of consciousness from his sleep, one resting on his shoulder with it's grip tightening, and the other against his tangled arms... Without thinking, and too lost to drowsiness, Corvo imagined it was his assassin, simply moving him in order to be more comfortable in the bed, so he allowed the hand at his arms untangle them, and felt the same, hard grip onto his wrist, as it was moved away. The hand on his shoulder now dug into his skin, Corvo starting to realise that this was not friendly, and promptly twisted to attempt to remove the hand, but was stopped from the sudden movement of his entire torso, the hand on his arms now having slipped almost undetected under his ribs... And turned him onto his back, face facing the ceiling.

Corvo stared at up what met him, seeing a Whaler mask, seeing a pair of strong, calloused hands, gloveless for once. Close, but Corvo's inner alarm was already calming by the time he realised who it was. Even though, in truth, he had no reason to, and he knew it, yet... He found himself unable to act as he wanted, his body fighting against his mind due to the fatigue of yesterday. So once the hands moved from his shoulders, too close to his face, and disappearing, Corvo's arms took a moment to react in tune with his mind.

The assassin's fingers curled around his throat, his grip sturdy and nearly unbreakable to the panicked Corvo, who by now realised that he was being murdered, the assassin even moving closer, his knee brushing up against Corvo's now squirming waist- and now, over it, as a gasp escaped Corvo, and he finally latched onto the wrists of the man trying to kill him, hands tearing as hard as he could into the others skin, feeling how scarred it was, how hard it was.  
He felt like he was being choked to death at that moment, when he gripped harder just for a moment, when he realised that the grip was lessening, he found himself able to look up, as his eyes followed the study, muscular body of the assassin, as he casually straddled Corvo waist, knee sliding across his stomach, pressing in as well due to the weight of it. His lower leg slid against his body too, making Corvo sneer worse under his bandanna, taking in a deep breath, glaring daggers onto the assassin and his hunched body, leaning down towards him, hands firm on his throat, but his thumbs where not gripping so hard anymore...  
The thumbs stroked against his skin, absentmindedly, as if they weren't meant to do that. But the man over him had all the control, oh, Corvo knew this all too well, even as he was growing dizzy, even as his cheeks felt flushed, and he was breathing harder to gain air... He twisted and jerked, using all strength he got now which were not a lot, trying to get him off, in a pathetic attempt, this due to his exhaustion, and he felt himself get more flushed, heart beating so hard in his chest it almost hurt, and when the assassin moved, Corvo felt a spark of something so familiar it had him come to a halt, breath hitching as his throat closed in on itself more than the hands around it did. He gritted his teeth, body running as hot as his cheeks, and he released his clenched jaw with an open mouthed exhale, not realising why, and it was even one that the assassin heard...

Air was sparse for Corvo, and he clenched at the assassin's wrist, hand moving more to grip around his assassin's hand now, brushing over his mark, as his own flared, and Corvo, in his panting and dizzy state stopped time, a useless thing to do, honestly, but it was all he could manage.

Air got dangerously low now, and with this, he felt hotter and hotter, now audibly panting, as well as even gasping for air...

And he finally got it, by just a slight slip of the assassin's grip that followed from the moving thumbs, it felt like broken glass down his already parched and sore throat as he gasped the air in, doing so several times, as if it was harder than it really was to gain air, something that wasn't far from the truth. Corvo squirmed, his brain getting enough air in a few seconds to understand what was going on with his body, a matter he hadn't had much time to worry about. And with this, through gritted teeth, through everything, Corvo took a hard grip on the now leaning back assassin after sitting up to his best ability, who was about to get off him, hands digging into the man's hips- and tugged him harshly further towards him, to not have him move too far back. And it worked, for he was utterly taken off guard by this sudden move of his employer's, so there were no resistance at all from him. And now, their masked faces were almost touching, Corvo's cheek leaning against the assassin's muzzle, said man actually stunned... As well as confused, to the point it took him a few seconds to move back.

And Corvo was too, yet so hyper aware of why, it hurt. Time resumed.  
He removed his hands off the man's hips, rather moving them towards his assassin's upper body and one under his shirt, by mistake. With a grip on him, and the assassin too slow to properly react from the touch of Corvo's hand against his skin, from the closeness, everything, he was promptly hurled to the side and off Corvo to the side, the assassin wide eyed and with a silent sneer falling to his side on the bed, one leg by Corvo's waist and hip, and the other over him. One leg Corvo quickly tossed off him as he moved away from the assassin, both men just... Stunned on each others side of the bed, Corvo breathing hard with a open mouth, and the assassin just... Moving to sit up, a bit bewildered and uncoordinated due to how Corvo tossed his leg off himself, making said assassin roll onto his stomach.

This... Went another direction than he was expecting. He expected a punch, or something else.

Corvo, was trying to open the window before him, managing to drag it up after a little bit of struggling, his muscles more tense, yet more lax than they were before, it hurt, as well as it did in his throat. He was still running hot, forehead damp with sweat, making his hair stick to his skin. He brought his hand to his face, first making sure that his assassin couldn't see his face when he did and ended up rubbing his eyes at first, then at his temples, managing to calm his breathing down well enough now, air starting to feel less like salt in an open wound down his throat by now...  
Fuck.

His hand dragged down his face- absentmindedly at first, but when he reached the corners of his mouth, he felt something wet. It had him drag his hand away quickly, and looked to it, Corvo knowing exactly what it was, yet he needed to look.  
He dried the saliva off on his pants, grumbling internally. Groaning too, thinking back due to the idle warmth of his hand on his thigh, to what had just happened...

He stopped his thoughts right there, reminding himself to breathe, his other hand absentmindedly travelling to his throat, and rubbing at it gently, swallowing hard to remind himself that.. He was still breathing. His arm fell down eventually to be resting at the side of his thigh, though, as every muscle still hurt. Especially his arms...

  
He was pretending he was at the window in order to get more air, pretending he was just catching his breath. Pretending he could think about anything else...

And in the back of his mind, he managed, only slightly. For one single thought came to mind, when his mind derailed from the assassin's hands around his throat, how damned warm they were...

This... Was a warning. Corvo realised this now- having had in it the back of his mind long enough for him to not attack the other back, and found himself looking over his shoulder to the man in question, the assassin slipping on his gloves as Corvo watched, back turned, with his sword in it's hilt, ready for use. There was no other reason for Corvo still being alive, he thought to himself. And no other reason why the man was still here, and not in his coat... He was ready to go and eat from what Corvo could tell... He wouldn't leave his coat here otherwise...  
It meant after he nearly killed him yesterday, spending his last chance, that the assassin gave him another.

... Corvo turned back to the view of Cullero after making sure his face was covered again, seeing lights being turned on, one by one to illuminate the darkness that was slowly approaching. He stood there thinking, avoiding the eyesore down by the buttons of his pants for a solid minute, and was harshly ripped from his thoughts by a finger on his shoulder, Corvo freezing immediately, what was stirring in him and making his blood boil in his veins had nearly stilled from the cold, but started again in full force just from that. Just a suggestion of movement towards his neck again had his body flare up. Yet, despite this, he found himself peering back, seeing the assassin's hand leave his shoulder, and gesture to Corvo to look at him.  
He shock his head. The assassin stood quiet for a while, and pointed to his hand. Corvo nodded, eyes going to his hands as he stepped back to be more visible. And kept on them too, even though he didn't find himself wanting to, it just... Brought more heat to his face.

/Orders?/

... He was just going to act as if nothing happened. Corvo grumbled internally, supposing the man before him expected Corvo to realise why he did as he did, thus was his reason to not talk about it...  
Corvo took a moment to gather those thoughts, and gestured to his own jawline. Then he made a gesture as if he was unfolding a razor, and dragged his finger across his jawline, though it was severely hidden by his longer beard by now, and pointed once to his assassin. Then to his own jawline again, and to his assassin. The man got the meaning of this movement, and mirrored Corvo's movements, feeling a patch of beard sticking out of his mask. He got it now.

/Clean up?/ His hands moved quickly.

Corvo nodded, his expression under his mask strained. He supposed the assassin was annoyed having to wait.

Both of them were clearly aware of where the bathroom was located in the building, the clerk at the counter being very particular of it the night before, making sure they would know, considering they had paid to stay for at two days. And perhaps he had some judgements about them too, and no wonder one could say, for they looked close to death yesterday, and in a sense, still did. Wet as dogs too.  
The assassin didn't give any replies, and turned on his heel, making his way through the room, stopping only to pick up Corvo's coat, however, and hung it up on the coat rack that stood by the door. - To then fetch his razor from his bag, and head out, towel in hand too. The door closed behind him with a quiet, yet somehow loud due to the silence; "Clack". His steps not as hushed as they usually would be, Corvo didn't wonder, he didn't care about it, as he slowly pushed himself away from the window, dragging the curtain to shield the outside world from the little room he was confined to.

Inhaling sharply, Corvo dragged himself to the bed, ending up laying down, trying to control, or calm down his reaction. He flipped over to his side, to his stomach, to his back, but nothing helped, the bulge in his pants still an eyesore and a pain. He prepped himself up, leaning against the pillows, halfly sitting by now. He understood all too well that he wasn't going to get out of this without doing something- if he did not he would be in terrible pain, and hiding that from his assassin would be harder than it already was- the knowledge of this torturing Corvo.  
After swallowing hard, biting as his lip, he dragged his hand to his face, removed everything, and sat completely bare, face showing to the room. It was a strange feeling, one he hadn't had for a while. Said hand worked onto his shirt buttons, exposing his chest and stomach to the colder air, skin prickling worse than it already had.  
Both hands went to the buttons on his pants, and one after another they popped open, and wasting no time, Corvo brought his cock out, the cold of the air on it's head feeling like pins and needles more than anything else for the moment. His most tired hand he left at his side, and the other stroked along his shaft, two fingers at first lightly touching himself, until the pleasure of just that had him cup his entire hand around his cock, trying to avoid bucking to make no sound. He laid as still as he could, head leaning back and exposing his Adams apple just perfectly, Corvo's struggling to bite at his lip. Said Adams apple bobbed up and down, Corvo swallowing any sounds he wanted to make down, and keeping his breathing in check, and for now, he did so through his nose, but... Found his assassin's scent on the pillow...  
With his hand going up and down, flashes of what just recently happened played in Corvo's mind due to the scent, causing his cock to twitch every now and then, making Corvo unable to help himself but to buck up after all, making him sink further down into the pillow and the bed. His free hand, gripping at the blanket under him, released it's grip, and it slowly found it's way up over Corvo's stomach, caressing the skin as he went, eyes closed to imagine the touch coming from another. And even though the thought had him sneer at first, Corvo's lips thinned as this caused more pleasure than pain- his hand that had found it's way to his throat also proved this... He gripped around his own throat, hand working hard to do it, and leaned into it, hips bucking helplessly as his grip tightened.  
Corvo first now started panting, all the strain to keep his mouth shut was just lost to him, almost on instinct. The hand on his cock started working quicker, Corvo finding just stroking wasn't enough, so he caressed the head, stroked under it, went back to the merciless stroking, as he felt himself only growing hotter and hotter, his awareness of the pain of all this fading from his mind.  
All Corvo found himself thinking of, be it controlled or what, was the assassin, Corvo's hands on his hips, his hands on _him_ , hips lips he only saw a brief second...

Pressure built up in him mercilessly, and as well as getting overly dizzy, he was desperate for breath as he had not let himself have any at all, almost.  
A sound escaped him, and he bucked up again, his hand tightening around his cock, as if imagining this was something his assassin would do, or, were doing at the moment- and-

A bolt shock through Corvo, and he reached his orgasm, body drawn tight, every muscle his his body complaining as he bucked up, straining. He fell back down onto the bed again, still riding out the high with a few last tugs to his cock, that was luckily starting to limp in his hand...   
Letting go of his throat, Corvo's entire being sunk into the bed, muscles now making themselves known again, yet so lax and exhausted he couldn't do else but to drag a hand up, looking to it as he caught his breath, finding it easier to breathe after this.

Shit.  
He leaned his head back, dreading moving, yet did so anyway, every muscle in his body screaming at him to lie back down.  
Corvo didn't listen, and went to the table with the towels set on it, one of them missing, for it was his assassins. He honestly had nothing else to use, so he quicker than he wanted to, cleaned himself up as well as it could be done. First he swiped the sweat off his forehead, to say the least he had quite a lot of it from leaving himself hanging for so long, and then off his stomach and cock, as well as hands.  
He fixed himself up, pants back on properly, and the shirt buttoned up, only leaving a few to let his neck breathe... Which was angrily red from the abuse, a bruise would most certainly show there later. To Corvo he thought of it more as a badge of honour than something to hide.

Dizziness increasing, Corvo returned to the bed, listening for footsteps as he did. He sunk down into the softer blanket and pillow, finding himself nuzzling against said pillow, finding that scent again. The same scent he chased just a few moments ago, but that luckily didn't cause a reaction now. Closing his eyes, he found himself relaxing, yet in pain, though...  
Not thinking to clearly, Corvo figured he could sleep here. It would be a good way to cool down, at least... And to forget about what he had just done, finding himself mortified..

Eventually Corvo realised the that the softness against his face was not supposed to be there.  
He realised first now that he was still unmasked.   
His eyes shot open, and he hurriedly reached out for his gear by his side, putting them on while he felt he still had the time... He found quickly that it was a good thing that he did, as sounds of footsteps started to make themselves known, Corvo peering to the door.

A familiar knock followed, and Corvo hauled himself off the bed, after crawling over to his own side, making his way to the door, and opened it... ... He should had locked it- he figured, as it creaked open.  
Outside he found his assassin, both hands occupied with a tray of... Food. As well as bottles of something to drink, both sealed.  
... Corvo... Stared. First at the food, then up to his assassin's mask, finding that it fit his face a lot better now than it had ever since he first met the man, and his hair was wildly sticking everywhere. In his silence, the assassin simply pressed by him, making Corvo move instead of silently asking him, his shoulder brushing up against Corvo's chest as he went, said man seeing his assassin's hair from the back, and figured he had some subtle waves in his hair.. He found it interesting, and felt the imprint of the assassin's accidental touch a bit too much, but it didn't affect Corvo as much as it would earlier, and he simply watched the man walk in, closing the door a bit too slowly.

Placing the tray onto the end of the bed, the assassin settled on his side of the bed, after picking up his plate and glass, sitting with his back turned to his employer, who simply... Settled down, and started to eat him too.

As if nothing had happened.

Corvo rather enjoyed the food, it was spicy, left a tiny spec of a spicy tinge on his lips, lingering. The drink was a bottle of pear soda, both of them got that, and it felt rather nice to drink down something else than water. Or seawater. Though the bubbles burned against his throat, he ignored it.

Soon they were both done eating. It resulted in Corvo laying down on the bed, this time hoping he would get some rest, chasing the mere thought of it in his mind, as when he managed to relieve his "problem", he gained a bit more control of where his thoughts trailed off to. And lost a lot of energy, out of the little he had. He even found none to curse at himself with.

  
He laid facing the ceiling, eyes open with a rather unfocused, yet there look. He felt oddly safe being in the same room as the man who just almost killed him. This, was due to two things... He knew he felt something for him. He was a challenge, someone who could be seen as an equal in a fight too... Something Corvo rather liked about him. Found himself drawn, wanting to keep him around... But-...  
And then said man, coughed, shocking Corvo as it was so sudden, and out of place. He looked to him, finding him with his mask on, and a rather hunched look, as if he was struggling to sit up as he did. His plate he placed on the floor, and his mask was pulled down again, it just seemed like he had little energy as well. Either that, or he was long lost in thought, Corvo not too sure. He figured what it was when the man before him laid down, head slotting in where Corvo's had been. He sighed heavily, chest heaving, and he turned to his side, facing Corvo. Resting for a second, and seeming to be... Waiting.

Turning to face him in the bed as well, they laid there, just... Quiet.. Not too close, not too far. And staring at this man before him, his large, sturdy frame, how his muscles were tensed... He seemed very closed, yet open at the same time. Perhaps, like Corvo himself at the moment. He couldn't deny that after... That... Things- changed. Corvo didn't feel that burning rage in him for the moment, that always laid in the back of his mind. Now he just had questions.

Corvo was the first to talk, raising his hands, and seeming to stop the assassin from turning his back to him.

/Why?/

The man laid motionless, lazily. Yet ready to spring up if needed.

/You wanted me dead, yet saved my life. I don't see much sense it in./

/Neither is there any in you choking me./ Corvo couldn't deny that he was angry about this.

/You know what that was. I got no need to remind you./

/Did I deserve it, assassin?/

Said man shrugged.

/Ask yourself that./

Corvo's eyes widened. And he was reminded of many things that just slipped his mind for the last few hours. Maybe for the last day... Right after he hit the lukewarm ocean water.

/My turn to ask why, then. Reply when you wish./ The assassin signed, and turned to his back, a part of his mask hidden by the pillow.

Corvo laid staring at him, or especially, his mask. ...

Corvo tapped the bed to gain attention, and the assassin turned to face him again, honestly not having expected a reply so quickly.

/I have history with your kind./ Corvo said, hands moving better now that they were leaning against something while he moved. He even found the will to point to his assassin's mask. /I cannot help but to see you as a threat./ The assassin just "nuzzled" the pillow, as if getting more comfortable. He was aware of his mask belonging to a group. He was aware of the Whalers.

/You can be lying. Using me- deciding to kill me later when it is the most fortunate for you./

/I have little memory of my kind. All I know are my skills. And that it is all I am./

/There is little incentive for me to believe you./

/You still breathe./

...

/I would imagine your history with my kind is not pleasant, considering your tendency to kill. I'd even imagine you've killed some of my kind, you seem like you really want to kill more, too./ The assassin said, no emoting, no nothing.

Corvo's lips parted. And he needed to wet them too.

/Do you know who Daud is?/

His assassin shock his head.

/He - / Corvo watched almost in slow motion even though it was fast, as the assassin suddenly lunged up, scooted closer quickly, and took a hold of Corvo's hands, his muzzle nearly touching Corvo's nose. And he shock his head at Corvo, as if telling him to shut up, the grip on Corvo's hands rather hard. Almost... Desperate. It quelled Corvo's anger, and lust to speak of him too, and this realisation... Shock him to the bone.

He jerked his hand back as well as he could, and couldn't go and farther back, for if he did, he would fall off the bed. So he was stuck, unmoving.  
Letting go of Corvo's hands as he had yet to do so, the assassin moved back to his place.

/Why?/ Corvo was still mildly stunned, and even a bit chilled. The imprints of the grip still lingered in his hands.

/I have no need or wish to remember anything./

Corvo frowned under his bandanna.

/Do you not want to remember your past? The reason you have your skills?/

He shock his head again.

/All I know is that I am a man from Karnaca, with a mother I can remember well. With a set of particular skills. It's all I want to be. All I can be, my memories are lost from me./

/If you try to recall things, you lose more of your memories?/ Corvo couldn't help but to reach out before signing, interrupting his assassin in the progress, but he didn't seem to mind.

/No. There is a reason I lost my memory. That is all I know./

Corvo sighed, a short one. /You're running away./

/I wouldn't know. But maybe./

... A long silence followed.

Corvo was debating in his head of what he wanted to say. Debating every thought he had about his assassin and who he were in his head, several things and matters swirling around in his head. All he knew from his past, about Burrows, around the network of traitors that lead to where he was at the moment. His choices, the trail of blood he had left behind him...  
He had no honest right to pry into this man, lying beside him on the bed.

He was running away, that much Corvo knew, and he clearly was one of the many he injured, and thought that he killed. But did he need to know more? Did he honestly want to...? And believe that he lost his memories? If he hadn't, he would fear Corvo. The former Lord Protector. The reason he lost his memories. Somehow. There were no fear from the assassin towards him, rather, it was the opposite, now that Corvo thought about it. His presence was overwhelming most of the time, radiating power and skill, despite his quiet demeanour. If there were any hint of fear, any hint of him recognising Corvo, he would notice by now. And even better, he would not threaten Corvo with his life if he feared him. If he knew who it was.  
And that was when he realised something, again, while his assassin signed something he didn't quite register.

Corvo suddenly sat up. And he got up, quicker than his body wanted him to, and he went just as quickly over to his coat. He dragged his mask, in all it's broken glory,out of his coat pocket, it being dry by now. It was too busted up to wear, and he felt a overwhelming anger about it once he laid eyes on it which he knew he would no matter what, but he managed to keep it under control long enough to turn to his assassin, tapping his foot to get his attention.  
Said man looked up, seeing the mask as Corvo presented it to him, and...   
Moved to sit up better, an arm being raised, Corvo watching with eyes wide, anger in his chest still stirring in him. And it was all silenced, as the reaction, the reply he got, was a simple thumbs up. As if-. Like-. Every thought in Corvo's head disappeared.

/You should repair it. I believe Dunwall will be a good destination. Despite my memory loss, I know the city. I spent a few nights studying the maps./ The assassin said, hands moving fluidly. No shaking. No fear.

_He didn't know the mask._

Corvo huffed. Huffed a quiet chuckle, all one could see was how his chest moved and the rest of him as well. There were little reaction of emotion from the assassin, simply finding himself wondering if the man before him was hyperventilating. And it was enough to make him get up to his feet, just in case he had to help Corvo breathe. To guard his life.

HE DOESN'T KNOW HIM.

Corvo's head stilled. He left all his questions behind him because of this. He didn't find it in himself to care anymore.

There was no reason to.  
No need.

This man was his assassin. Nobody else. He didn't care who he used to be anymore.

And now Corvo knew what he wanted to do, what he was doing before his illness. Before his mask was robbed from him. All while he stared down onto his mask, his face. His life.

Ignoring the cross armed assassin by the bed, Corvo placed his mask back into his coat pocket, almost wishing he could sew it shut to not lose it accidentally. He started to listen to his body, listen to what it was telling him, and he quietly found himself wandering back to the bed after locking the door, standing on the other side of it, facing his assassin.

/We spent money for two days here. So we rest. Then we go home for a while. I need to take care of something./   
Said assassin nodded, having no objections about this, and settled back onto the bed first, Corvo watching as he unbuttoned a button of two at his collar, and lie down, facing the ceiling. Corvo followed him, ending up laying down facing him, arm propped up underneath his head.

As he laid there, Corvo's body went against his wishes, his focus starting to waver. A feeling, all too familiar to him, rushed over him as he relaxed his body. One where he felt his body float, disappear from his control, as if he was an onlooker to it, and yet not. He was slipping into slumber for sure, he was aware of that, but powerless to do anything about it.   
Powerless until he noted his assassin move, back turned towards him now...

Corvo reached out a hand to his back, as if it was the last thing he did, palm outstretched onto his assassin's back... The last thing he registered before he fell asleep, eyes too heavy, was the man's mask peering up, looking to him...

Then his employer was asleep. The assassin could tell.  
Just by how his hand rested, how limp the touch got, and how he sunk into the madras, his body limp too. He wondered what had exhausted him that much, else from yesterday, and he supposed perhaps the first meal in a good while tired him out. There were no need to think about it.

Despite sleeping seeming very tempting, he stayed awake, occasionally moving through the night. Once he decided to roll over, he found his employer, still deeply asleep, but with a slight tremor in him. So, the man sat up for the first time in a little while, muscles complaining once he did, and brought a hand to the man before him's cheek... Gently, he lifted his head, making sure to try and avoid waking him. He managed well, and dragged the blanket out from under his head, the rest following suit easily from there. Just a tug, and the blanket was free from under him.

So... The assassin bundled up his employer. It wasn't really a thing he had to do, Corvo wouldn't freeze to death. Nights in Serkonos could never kill you. Yet, he somehow felt he should pay him back. At least a bit- for saving his life. But although the assassin acted like this, the warning he gave, there were no regrets behind it. Despite the man behind him being to the point of feral, and his actions made little to no sense, he understood his reasons better after their little talk. And it resulted in the assassin becoming a little less guarded. He wasn't so unpredictable to him anymore.  
He laid down again, back turned to the man in the bed beside him, so deeply asleep one would think he was unconscious.

With a sigh, the assassin found himself closing his eyes, listening to the sounds in the house. Finding himself... Actually relaxed, for his muscles demanded it, as well as a little part of him, in the back of his mind.

He fell to the lure of sleep as well, eventually. And suffered the same fate as Corvo.

  
Many, perhaps too many hours later, the assassin woke up, finding himself covered up. His employer was fast asleep beside him, apparently he had moved closer to him as he had been sleeping, his hand resting against his assassin's back, who was peering over his shoulder to see this. He figured his body had rested more than enough by now, and went ahead and moved to a sitting position, just for a little while as he woke up. For the man was still lost to sleeps grip, eyelids heavy under his mask, struggling to stay open. He yawned, tears forming in the corner of his eyes as he did so, as it was a big and long one.   
His left hand slipped under his mask, and he wiped at his eyes, trying to force himself awake, just anything, to not feel like falling straight down onto the pillow again. The beams of light coming from the gaps in the curtains, sharp as they were, did show that it was morning, so it was on high time to get up.

Something beside the assassin moved, and found his employer moving along, pulling his arm to him. Honestly the assassin was glad for that.  
Yawning again, not able to stop it, the assassin grumbled internally, and decided that he needed some air. So, within a few seconds he had the window open again, and leaning out of it, feeling the morning breeze go through his hair. For he had yet to find any wax to pull it back with, though it was settling.

Eventually, there were some movement behind him, the assassin peering over his shoulder to see his employer's body turn, just in the moment. He paid little mind to it, looked back outside with squinted eyes.

A few moments later and the assassin's head lowered, annoyed at all the noise that his employer was making from twisting around like he did in the bed. It could attract attention. He turned fully after getting off the windowsill, readying his hands to ask what was going on, but found the man facing him, fingers clenching the covers, and the blanket had been thrown off him. Judging from his body language, how he was straining, the assassin figured he was dreaming.

A nightmare, if nothing else.

Eyes still halfly lidded, lips thinned, the assassin found himself reaching out towards his employers hand, and patted with palm outstretched against it, in order to keep said hand down if his employer were to stir out of his sleep in a panic.   
With his other hand, and now with a knee on the bed, the assassin further leaned down and reached out to his employer's shoulder, placing his hand on it, the man before him sideways on the bed most hopefully secured from springing up and attacking him.  
But the assassin was all too wrong.  
The man before him stilled, head only moving... Then his arm moved, dragging back, his employer waking up rather calmly, and stared up towards the man beside him, who was actively moving away.

  
Corvo had questions. A lot of them too, to why he was woken up, and why the assassin just casually turned away, looking out through the window...  
But he found himself unable to question it. Didn't find the will to, in his tired state. So, he got up, and headed to the door, dragging his towel with him. He felt some eyes on him as his hand hovered over the doorknob, and did indeed find his assassin looking to him as he was about to leave.

/Cleaning up too. Pack everything up./

A nod followed from his assassin, who wandered up to his bag, fishing out his razor. As if surprised, Corvo paused as it was held out to him, folded and ready for use. But eventually, he accepted it, and the two of them went to each others tasks.  
Spending the towel he casually took from the utility closet on his way, Corvo was clean enough by the time he looked at himself in the mirror, his hair ending up in waves due to the steam in the bathroom. It bothered him a little bit, so he moved it away, hoping it would straighten out eventually. The brown eyes that met him in the mirror once he had done so though, they didn't feel like his own anymore, all of sudden. So he quickly looked away, back to the razor, and made sure that he wasn't cutting himself once he started shaving.

His assassin was already done by now, sitting on the edge of the bed with the bag beside him, a small cloth stained in blood in his hand. He was cleaning off his sword, wiping at it absentmindedly as his focus occasionally wavered. This was always such a calming thing for him to do, and it was rare he found the time to indulge in it. His sword was an extension of himself, of his trade, so he found it more important to take care of the sword than himself sometimes.  
Footsteps were heard, and he found himself looking up, finding his employer in the door a few seconds later.   
He found himself... Taking his eyes off his sword for a few more seconds than he meant to. Found himself staring at Corvo, as he wandered into the room, observing more than needing to talk as he went on. Headed to his coat, and threw it on.  
Silently, Corvo caught his stare, and kept it for a little while.

.... Quickly the two men looked away from each other, and headed out into the night, Corvo leaving his first towel in the lit fireplace in the lobby.

  
With this, the two men found their way through the dimly lit streets, passing the occasional drunk and hollering idiot. They paid them no mind, their masks and in general threatening demeanour made sure to keep them out of trouble from the normal people, at least. The guard, perhaps not, but as they rounded a corner, they heard subtle snoring from a guard post, one guard asleep in a chair beside it. Paying him no mind with good reason, they passed, and found their way down to the docks.  
There, they went ahead and "borrowed" a lamp, lighting it with the assassin's lighter who by now carried it too, and they found themselves wandering the docks, towards where they supposed the skiff they arrived in were still. And oddly enough, yes. It was where they had left it, untouched, the only thing wrong being some bird droppings. It would be easy enough to clean.  
Settling down the lamp on the edge of the dock to see the little skiff, the two of them cooperated to get the skiff clean, one grabbing a bloodied rag most likely used to clean off the dock workers hands after cutting the fish for preparation, or salting, and the other grabbing some water. As well as a whale oil lamp, it shone more brightly than a normal, lit one.  
They didn't spend long, and soon both were settled in the skiff, bags under the assassin's seat to be sure they would stay safe, in case they hit something on the way. It was in the dark of the night after all, so they were both careful, once they settled down, one after the other.  
Corvo settled back in his seat, letting the assassin take the helm again.

The only thing being heard around them was the gentle splashing of the water, the engine of the skiff, and the harsh silence of the night. The assassin kept his sights on the sea before him, making sure that the skiff wouldn't hit any sort of solid matter.

Corvo kept an eye out towards the shore, seeing how the lights from Cullero dimmed, and faded, further and further away, until they rounded a corner, and it was completely dark, except for the light from the whale oil lamp, settled right behind Corvo, casting his shadow on the assassin. The moon seemed to help light their way once some of the clouds passed it, but just for a while.

  
Hours later, so many that the sun had started to peek up from the horizon over the ocean, Corvo turned in his seat, seeing his hometown in view yet again.  
Looking forward to finally setting his feet back on the shore again, Corvo turned to his assassin, showing him where to go. The man obliged, Corvo could feel his eyes on him.

Bathed in an orange glow from the rising of the sun, the two men stepped back to solid ground, Corvo knowing exactly where to go.

\----------------------

Meanwhile, in the Tower, a young girl woke up earlier than most of her staff, earlier than even the most diligent rat, needing to find it's next meal.  
The chest of things and letters from Corvo's room stood secured in a safe, set there recently by a lot of guards, Emily knowing this, and was now getting up to go to it, before her maids would come and wake her up. Only she knew the combination, having set it late at night, when she knew nobody was looking, or could be. And she always made sure that nobody where looking once she opened it as well, something she was about to do. So as usual, she looked around her, listening... And set the combination, dragging the door open.  
The first thing she reached for, once she tip toed to get high enough, was the Heart. The Heart of her mother, Jessamine Kaldwin.

She hugged the Heart closer to her, knowing it didn't bleed and would cause stains. It would be her way of saying good morning from now on, even if the Heart didn't call to her. It had grown silent after many hours of talk, where Emily ended it with angry tears in her eyes, still none the wiser of why her father left.  
The hope of her mother knowing had left her as soon as the Heart uttered a few words:

" _He is lost to me_."

Emily asked what she meant, in desperation more than anything else. But she got no answer. Even as she squeezed the Heart, there were none. It had grown silent.  
She only now, when the Heart gently started beating in her arms, that she had asked too much of it. Of her mother. She realised it as it calmed down, stopped beating, going back to being silent...

Perhaps... The letters in the box, everything else could tell her more.  
So, taking her mother with her, Emily settled down on the floor after pulling out the box, and opened it yet again, having collected all that had been thrown out yesterday.  
A audiograph card, several letters, rolls of papers.

Emily started with the letters, finding her mothers handwriting on most of them. Letters of love to her father, thoughts and other things. Something that she had written to him when he was gone on his political duty, a long while ago. ... The young Empress kept a straight face, as she read it all, for anger was growing in her, while she read it. Contempt and hate too, but yet, a longing for the man she called father, so strong that it candled out anything else.  
Tears ended up coming from the girl, though, when she didn't find anything. She didn't understand-...  
Why did he leave if he loved her so much, as it said in the letters? As he said sometimes... Why did he save her, to just leave her to die!?

" _Listen to the audiograph_."

Emily's eyes widened... And... The sound of her mothers voice... It grounded her.

... Lip trembling, Emily braced herself, carefully putting letter back, ignoring the rolls of paper for now, until...

She found a letter from the Spymaster. She knew that seal all too well...

... It was a letter from him, to Daud. Detailing their business transaction. There were blood drops on the paper.

... Emily removed her finger form the drops, as if she was ashamed she touched it, and pulled everything back, else from the audiograph card. She stashed the box in her safe, and closed it, allowing it to lock up. Then, she hid the Heart, in her closet, not knowing that she, and her father, was the only one that could see and speak it it.

Then, the young Empress bolted out after getting dressed, to go and find an audiograph. Quickly too.  
It took her 10 minutes, after she woke Lydia, and had her help carry it. She dismissed her afterwards, and told her to leave her for a while. It was truly needed, for as soon as the young girl slot the audiograph in it's slot, brought her mothers Heart closer to her, her heart dropped as she heard her mothers voice, so different than the one coming from the Heart. And tears overflowed her eyes, not shy of escaping them, pouring down her cheeks as the young girl broke down.   
The Heart fell silent.

  
And Emily grieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no-. :'''D


End file.
